What Comes After Winter
by JohnFlyer
Summary: Down but not out after the fall of Reach, Noble Six is unwittingly sent to another reality. With Halsey as a nefarious ally, and ONI as a potential enemy, his loyalties are now split and he'll need help. He'll need to uncover a sinister plot transcending both worlds, battle foes near and far, and learn to work with unexpected and alien allies. Time to pick up a new team.
1. Chapter 1

Authors notes:

I'll try to be brief. In my native tongue, that translates into "close, but no cigar."

I'd like to thank all of the amazing writers on here. Anyone who throws a story out there for nothing but the joy of it deserves some respect. But there are some authors out there who directly inspired me.

To you guys and/or gals, thank you. I sincerely hope you all do the world a favor and pursue writing in some professional capacity.

Okay! On to some story details. First, I'm a mega fan of both franchises. I'm all over the lore beyond the games and try to be as accurate as I can. I've read a lot of stories for this exact crossover. And I've spent hours upon hours trying to integrate the most likely physics between the two in the spirit of a fair comparison... and then I realized that neither are exactly hard sci-fi and I needed to take some artistic liberties for both the sake of combining realities AND my own sanity.

Now, watching Chief tear across the ME universe is always a trip. But I wanted a story about someone less developed, less sure of themselves, maybe a bit unstable. I wanted a story about redemption.

Noble Six was a perfect candidate. The Fall of Reach was a shock to all of humanity. Well, except ONI, Hood, and Halsey. But going from a solo badass to a team player and, within a few weeks, it all turned to ash; I wanted that guy. He's not broken, he's shaken. Not shattered, just wounded. He never had the chance on that team to know what being part of a team meant. And he's a Spartan III which means he's just a hair emotionally unstable with limitless potential for growth. And so I decided to give him a new team... Albeit not the one he would have chosen.

I also took as much care as possible to ensure Six was RUTHLESSLY lethal. To quote Zorg, "Tell you what I do like though: a killer. A dyed-in-the-wool killer. Cold-blooded, clean, methodical and thorough." That's the spirit in which I tried to write his action scenes. His personality will develop over time, as will his relationships with people, but he's a Spartan first before all else.

I also read a lot of stories where things were accidental. Chief's slipspace portal back from the Ark on the Forward Unto Dawn was a perfect way to launch a lot of these stories but I wanted something just a touch more sinister. So I threw in a healthy dose of intention rather than chance.

Additionally, I tried to stay as true to the canon, stats, physics, characters, and their potential interactions as I could. Hell, I watched YouTube playthroughs just to make sure I got some of the conversations right. At this point I can safely say that, in many respects, ME has better tech.

There, I said it.

I LOVE Halo but Mass Effect has a much sleeker, well-refined, and efficient set of technologies, albeit limited by element zero.

BUT, ME is also a bit softer. The Alliance has had skirmishes but nothing major since the First Contact War and even that was a matter of months. They are a humanity that enjoys a booming economy, status, technological advancement, and are basically more concerned with where they are in the Council races than anything else. Their biggest challenge is jockeying for position. Shepard is an exception and portrayed here as a little rough, sarcastic, darkly comedic, but a good leader. Militaristic, sure, but human and likeable. The Alliance is basically more akin to the United Federation of Planets in Star Trek than it is anything else. Nothing to mess with, but not overly militaristic either and they've enjoyed enough peace to forget what a war really looks like.

The UNSC, however, is a different monster (emphasis on monster). There are many who have known ONLY a lifetime of war. It's a humanity pushed to the brink, hunted, desperate. They're also tenacious, aggressive, and morally ambiguous. The UNSC has been at war against an advanced and overwhelming force for almost three decades and lost almost every engagement despite brilliant tactics and technological advancement bred only by the desperate struggle to live. Their only "victories" delayed the inevitable and they were almost more costly than beneficial. Where the Alliance would counterpunch an enemy, the UNSC would slit a throat before the fight started. They exist for a singular purpose; survive and inflict as much damage as possible until their inevitable end. Their weapons use cartridges because they're cheap, easily mass produced, and work well enough to justify making more. "Hey, General, think we should make our ships better looking or something?" "Nah, just build a steel plated brick and put as many gigantic 'F *& YOU' guns as you can fit on there."

My opinion? Sure Mass Effect has the upper hand in ground engagements with biotics, advanced weapons, shields, etc. Space can go either way in my opinion but this is also the UNSC in 2552, not 2558 when the Infinity was the God brick. But I also feel like a fleet of evenly matched UNSC forces against an ME equivalent would annihilate the ME fleet. The UNSC would bring everything to the table, sacrifice whatever was necessary, take every advantage, and fight to kill rather than just win. They'd pull nothing, use decades worth of tactics that worked against superior enemies, and force the battle to be fought on their terms.

Tough call.

Anyways. I hope you enjoy it!

What Comes After Winter

"There are so many stories where some brave hero gives their life to save the day, and because of their sacrifice the good guys win, the survivors all cheer, and everybody lives happily ever after. But the hero never gets to see that ending. They'll never know if their sacrifice actually made a difference. They'll never know the day was really saved. In the end, they just have to have faith...ain't that a bitch?" -unknown and unusually talkative UNSC soldier

Chapter 1 - Spartans Never Die

August 30th, 2552

Epsilon Eridani II (Reach)

Wind was blasting by as the Covenant approached rapidly. The Pelican hovered there with Captain Keyes of UNSC Pillar of Autumn having just been given a fragment AI. Emile had just been taken out by Covenant troops. Six represented the last of Noble Team and they both knew he was their best chance. The Spartan wondered why the ride out of there had even been offered.

"Lieutenant, get aboard! We gotta get the hell outta here!"

The Spartan III didn't hesitate. Never did. He moved his gaze from where Emile had fallen, then to what Reach had become when the plasma rain came down, then turned to look Captain Keyes in his eyes.

"Negative," he responded. "I have the gun. Good luck, sir."

The Captain, however, did hesitate. He just stared at the Spartan, now walking away, who would ensure their survival at the cost of his own. At that moment, the Captain finally understood what they had started with those 75 children all those years ago that had eventually led to the man before him now. Maybe not the same generation, but no less the caliber. This one had as much guts as any of his predecessors.

The Captain nodded in response, his face pulled tight and grim.

"Good luck to YOU, Spartan..."

That had been hours ago. Six had taken the gun and covered the escaping UNSC personnel from the Covenant, even dropping a super carrier in the process. He'd even smirked under his helmet but the smile died as quickly as it had appeared at the time.

He'd encountered teams and even a squad size element of the enemy here and there since then. His Mjolnir Mk V had held up surprisingly well so far but he couldn't say the same for himself. It had been weeks since he'd slept properly, eaten a decent meal, had his wounds treated, or even shaved. It was what he was built for but even he had limits fast approaching. He figured he didn't have much time left as he looked around his former home. It was a shadow of what it once was. His feet shifted and his ears were met with the sound of crunching glass. Hot wind battered against his armor even as the suit kept him cool. Once their fortress among the stars, the military center of humanity, Reach was now a wasteland. Only whispers, glass, and ghosts remained. It hadn't been his home long but he'd fought for it, bled for it, and now he'd die on it.

"Reach has been good to me..." The echoes of a ghost in his mind. Six grimaced, remembering his towering teammate.

He picked up his M392 DMR and checked the clip. He loaded it back up and leaned it against his leg then did the same with his M6G Magnum. Slapping that back on his thigh, he pulled the M90 shotgun from his back and checked it. Again, full. He was only carrying what was in the guns now. No extra rounds. He exhaled forcefully and placed the shotgun into its magnetic hold on his back, kicked the DMR off the ground and caught it.

"I'm ready! How 'bout you!" Another whisper of the fallen forced its way through his mind.

He was ready, he thought to himself. No mission, no objective, just his own personal vendetta to take as many of these bastards with him as he could. His last stand and his final duty. What he had lived for.

He turned his head toward the sudden sound of commotion. His body soon followed. He counted maybe 16 of them at first glance, barely making out their silhouettes through the dust and ash. They were approaching his position but he felt no need to move. He just stood there; defiant, DMR in hand, no cover. He briefly wondered which one of these would deliver the final blow. He wasn't going to make it easy on them. No, even luck wouldn't count here for his approaching hostiles. Not against the best that he knew he could be for a while longer yet. He counted 6 Elites, 2 Jackals, and and 8 Grunts bearing down on him slowly on their patrol. 16 enemies and him.

'Close enough for a fair fight,' he thought.

Even as one of them finally caught sight of him and he lifted his rifle to his shoulder, he didn't shake. He was calm. The Grunt out in front cupped it's eyes to try and make out the Spartan III's appearance. Then he tapped another grunt to try and confirm what he thought he saw and now two pairs of eyes squinted to see Six.

"Tell 'em to make it count," brushed the edges of his consciousness. Another teammate gone.

The grunts were now crying out, calling the lone wolf's position out to the others. As they all rounded on him he zoomed in, exhaled until there was no pressure in his chest, and gently squeezed. The bark of the Elite in Red to engage him cut short by the successive cracks of his DMR delivering it's payload. Three shots, three dead Grunts.

"...get off calling a demolition op priority one," as he saw her fall dead in his mind all over again. The whip of the sniper shot that killed her in his memory timed perfectly to his DMR as he shot the fourth grunt in the head just as it activated it's plasma grenades. The other Covenant leapt out of the way but not fast enough for the two remaining grunts. The Elites moved to surround him as he opened fire on the Jackals. Round after round ejected from his DMR and slammed against their two shields. His own shields flickered as he felt the dull impact of plasma rounds splash against him but they held. He felt the searing heat cook his skin for the umpteenth time in his recent history. He moved forward now, legs pistoning to a blur, pumping the last round of his DMR into a Jackal's head. He dropped the rifle and pulled his shotgun free, grabbing one of the enemy shields with his free hand and yanking back, bringing his weapon down and unloading point blank into the slender alien's now exposed chest. He batted the shield of the remaining Jackal out of the way as it opened fire with its pistol.

The round connected even as he was swinging around full force, sending the creature spinning on its toes. He dropped it with another blast before it hit the ground. He was caught from behind by a blast from another plasma rifle. He whipped around and saw two of them bearing down on him. He leapt at one, putting one enemy in front of another as his shields finally flickered and died under their combined assault. He got two shots off before the Elite yanked the barrel of the shotgun away from its trajectory. But the aliens' shields were already down. With a grunt, Six lashed out with his foot and caught the alien square in the chest and heard the wet crunch of armor crushing elite bones. One down.

He caught more plasma rounds from the enemy now in front of him that was behind the first. They splashed across his chest piece and he felt the heat underneath his armor rise to scalding. An overcharge shot caught him in the same spot moments later. His armor buckled under the stress and he felt the searing pain of plasma burns on his shoulders, neck, and stomach. His armor had at least dissipated the impact. Six caught another round to the faceplate. It cracked and his HUD flickered before going dark and he staggered.

"You're on your own, Noble..." Carter's words now ringing in his ears. He had been alone since Onyx. The Lone Wolf.

But he wasn't done. Not yet. He ripped his helmet off and threw it aside. He spied an assault rifle and grabbed it as an elite ran for him. He whipped it up into position and unloaded half a clip into the behemoth as it bellowed it's last.

Spartan Time overtook him as the pain he had felt earlier was now a dull ache. Adrenaline flooded him now, even as he was going into shock as more plasma rounds poured into him. He heard the tell-tale snap and hiss of an energy sword behind him and he spun, whipping high, hard, and fast with the butt of his rifle, catching the elite in the jaw and neck with enough force to crush shields and fracture vertebrae. The elite fell but more plasma seared under his suit and into his skin from behind.

"Didn't you know," he said quietly. Whipping around to paint the elite that had opened fire in lead. He had just gotten the shields down on his enemy when another burst of plasma struck him from his right side. His neck, chest, thighs, shoulder, and chest catching almost every round. He didn't even feel the sting of the rounds anymore. His hands were twitching now, shock setting in as his senses dulled. He pulled around to empty the rest of his rounds into the new threat. The Elite to his left charged and bulldozed him. Landing painfully on his back, he launched a leg at the approaching elite and sent it sailing. The leader, a full-fledged Zealot, had it's sword drawn and stabbed at him. He tried to roll but it caught him in the shoulder between socket and ball and went all the way through. He yelled and pulled the alien in with his damaged arm and slammed his combat knife home into the red devil's eye socket.

"Spartans never die," he growled at his enemies.

He cried his last words as the the killing blow approached from the sword drawn in the hand of the Elite he had kicked earlier. He smiled at the monster and waited for the inevitable. He'd look his killer in the eyes. His fight was over. The elite charged.

5 quick shots to the head of the Elite and the shields died on the approaching covenant combatant. The 6th caught the monster in his mandibles and the alien fell in a heap and gurgled it's last.

Noble Six looked around, pain lancing through every enhanced nerve ending. He tried to pinpoint his savior, sure that someone had just saved his neck. But no one was there. Just the dead and the soon to be.

He heard a crunch to his right and he looked down to see his pistol falling from his own fingers into the dust and glass beneath him. He'd forgotten he'd even had it. But his reflexes hadn't.

Noble Six breathed slowly, trying to regain his senses, and coughed up blood even as he chuckled. Kurt and Mendez hadn't taken any shortcuts in training. His had been a brutal life. From orphan to soldier, soldier to Spartan, Spartan to hyper lethal vector. And all it had ensured at this point was a much slower death. He heard the low whir that told him his shields were back up. He laughed again, not sure if he was lucky or unlucky to even be alive on this desolate rock. He focused, forcing the shock to dissipate so he could function again.

He slowly and carefully raised himself to a sitting position. Slapping his pistol back on his hip, he collected both of the energy swords and attached them to his lower back. Next was two plasma rifles, one on his back, one on his other hip. He pulled his combat knife out of the eye of the red elite and pushed it back into its sheath on his left shoulder.

He limped back over to his shotgun and picked it up. Four rounds. Not much but it would be enough to attract an enemy that could hopefully finish the job. He picked up his helmet, groaning at the pain of bending over. His headgear was useless now. He pulled the memory from it and put the chip in a spare pouch before dropping the helmet where it lay.

He limped for he didn't know how long. No other hostiles appeared, no more fly-overs. The shock was starting to wear off and so was his adrenaline now. His Mjolnir was damaged but functional, if only just. The biofoam he used had done enough of itss job to keep him from leaking but he didn't know for how long. He was just happy the force multipliers and power still functioned. His only concern now was to make it somewhere he could attract enough attention to inflict some more casualties before joining his brothers and sister. And he had an idea where he might find something like that.

When he finally came upon FLEETCOM, he wasn't surprised to see it had also been mostly torn to pieces. He limped to the caved in structures. Six was tired, frayed, on the brink, but determined.

He shuffled into the building through one of the many holes, consistently surprised at the lack of enemy forces. He grimly supposed that glassing a planet didn't need a whole lot of ground support for any real length of time. Besides, when the Autumn headed into slip-space, he was sure at least some of the fleet would try and follow.

Hobbling, he made his way over to the giant armored door to CASTLE base located underneath the facility. He located the panel from his last visit. It was a wonder it was still intact. The glimmering light under the buttons told him it still had power. He began pressing buttons trying to get it open but quickly grew frustrated when nothing happened. Hoping against hope, he pushed the intercom button.

"Is anyone there?" His voice was gravelly. Breathing dust and waste had dried him out and he coughed. Only static responded to his question.

"This is Lieutenant Sierra Bravo 312, does anyone copy? Respond."

More static. He sighed. As the idea that he might succumb to his wounds here at this damn door dawned on him he punched the wall, splintering the granite slab.

"Goddammit, is anyone there!"

More of that godforsaken static. "Fine," he said more to the door than the intercom. "I'm going to make my own door."

He had just turned to limp away when the static cleared into a low buzz. He turned to the panel again, heavy eyes narrowed. He stumbled back to the panel and tried hitting more buttons but to no avail.

"Fuck this." He curtly said and turned once again to carry out on his earlier threat. He stopped dead when a voice finally came through.

"Lieutenant, language," it said with a bemused tone. He knew that voice.

"Halsey," he responded simply, turning to face the intercom.

"Oh, please. Call me Doctor."

He wanted to argue but resisted the urge knowing that she was the only one who could open the door.

"Doctor Halsey, can open this door?"

A long pause greeted him. A full minute passed but he waited patiently.

"What are you hoping to find down here exactly," she finally responded. "If you're looking for Jun, he's already left. If you're trying to protect me, you can see that I'm quite fine down here." A short pause before she added, "if you'd like to join me down here to wait and hope for some miraculous rescue, I'm sure MY Spartans will be along sooner or later."

He could practically hear her arrogant smirk at the mention of HER Spartans. Annoyed now, Six snapped back angrily, "No, Doctor. I don't want to join you. I want enough firepower to make a mess."

He heard a click and the whirring of pneumatic pumps firing up behind the armored door.

"Why didn't you say so? I'll meet you."

The door slowly ground open, metal screeching as it slowly swung wide enough for him to get through. He shuffled through and the door began to close behind him as the heavy clunk and hiss of locks sliding back into place echoed in the room. He heard the elevator come to life to his side and slowly made his way to it.

The doors opened and there she stood. Every inch, she was, the legend she was supposed to be. Sharp eyes took him all in and he suddenly felt as if every secret thought was now known to her. She looked him up and down, surveying his sorry state and damaged armor. Her face never wavered but her eyes showed just a hint of concern and perhaps a touch of wonder.

"Hyper lethal, indeed. How many?"

Six shrugged as white hot pain forced his shoulders back down. "Maybe 50. Give or take 20."

The Doctor nodded. "Did you have any plan for this suicide mission or were you set on nobly going down with the ship. Pardon the pun."

He paused, not holding her gaze for a moment. There were no orders, no command. He really only saw one option. Ultimately ignoring her question, he posed his own. "Are you going to let me in?"

She stood to the side and made room for him. She looked over the blood again, both red and blue.

"Well, I can't say I'm pleased with the state of my armor," she quipped. He leaned back against the wall, grunting in pain as the elevator began its descent.

He could feel her looking at him but he said nothing. When the elevator passed the Aqua Level he finally looked at her. "We passed the armory," he said simply.

"I thought we'd visit my place first. I have a thing or two that might help."

"Whatever you have, I won't need it."

She shrugged. "You may be surprised. When I was creating Spartans, they considered being as combat ready as they could to be as essential as breathing. But then, your kind was a little more defiant. Prone to emotional problems and aggression, weren't they." It wasn't a question. And he didn't feel like answering anyway.

They landed on Scarlett Level and the elevator stopped. She walked out ahead of him and he slowly followed. They passed her office, where he thought they were heading, and made their way to what appeared to Six to be an underground hospital. She pointed to a spot next to a surgical table. He dutifully walked over and stood where she indicated. She spent several minutes pulling liquids into syringes.

She put them on a tray, along with biofoam, and moved toward him, placing the tray on the surgical bed. "I assume you don't mind needles," she said dryly.

"What are you giving me, Doctor?"

She held up what was obviously a blood pack. He briefly wondered how she would stick it in his arm but she reached up and swabbed his neck instead. "I assume in the interest of time, you don't mind using the jugular vein, correct?"

He nodded and she plunged the needle home. The small motor attached to the needle buzzed as it started to refill his lost blood.

"Besides, if we peeled you from that suit now, no doubt you'd need surgery. It's probably, between that and the biofoam, the only thing holding you together..." She trailed off and he looked straight ahead as she looked at him.

"Lieutenant, are you sure you don't want to stay?" Her tone suggested she was sincere. He risked a glance at her. He knew she meant it. The faces of his team flashed in his mind just as the guilt flooded him. Not just of the failure he felt to protect them, but that he had lived when they hadn't. It was there for just a moment and then gone in almost the same instant. He raised his head and looked straight ahead.

"I'm sure, ma'am."

Halsey began to distribute the biofoam across his wounds and the damaged armor. It was enough to keep him in one piece and would probably make the suit space worthy again, if only for a short period. She held one of the syringes up, then flicked it, bringing bubbles to the tip of the needle before pushing on the plunger to clear it of air.

"And you intend to, what, just take as many with you as you can?"

She walked around to the other side of his neck and brought another needle to his skin.

"If I could do more, I would."

She plunged one needle after another into his neck. "That was polymerized hemoglobin, dermacortic steroids, polypseudomorphine, and chorotazine since you insist on wandering around without a helmet. All of these will probably make you feel worse before you feel better but it should hold together just long enough to get yourself killed."

She pulled out another syringe, bigger than the others with a noticeably thicker gauge needle. Whatever was in it looked like several full ounces worth of shimmering liquid. It had a silvery sheen to it. It looked like mercury. She saw him raise an eyebrow.

"It's phenylcyclohexylpiperidine. A sort of rumbledrug, really. Much safer. Especially for someone with your physiology. Slow release stimulant and will help with stopping those wounds."

He grimaced as the large needle delivered it's payload. It felt like ice in his veins, then fire, before dissipating. He could swear he felt it circulate. Feeling mildly more alert, he looked around, finally taking stock of his surroundings.

"What is this place," Six asked as he looked around at the many beds.

She looked around with an almost forlorn face, eyes glowing. "This, Lieutenant, is where the Spartan program was born. Right here on Reach, as I'm sure you know. 75 genetically gifted children. We turned them into the best hope for humanity, though we didn't know it then..." She gazed down the room at the many beds. He could see her sadness. "They were trained here. When they were ready, the augmentations, rudimentary and dangerous as they were then, were performed in a station in orbit. Those that rejected the procedure, required additional care, or Spartans injured or killed were brought here. Many say that the enhancements is when they became true Spartans... But they were forged in fire long before then. They were all unique and brimming with potential before we ever took them. The alterations only made them more efficient at being what they had already become."

She shook herself and met his gaze.

"Though I hear Kurt has done the same thing with your kind. I've even heard that the training was tougher in some instances. Of course, I couldn't picture anything like that but, who better to train the Spartan threes than a Spartan two, I suppose. What happened to your companies... What they made your kind give for our benefit. I'm truly sorry."

Cryptic even in her sincerity, he nodded curtly at her empathy.

"What do you think, Lieutenant? Do you believe you're on par with your progenitors?"

"I did the best I could to be the best I could. Doesn't matter what I believe."

He returned her stare and she seemed to soften.

"I was hoping you'd say something like that. Counted on it, in fact. Cortana chose you to carry her fragment. I feel that we don't yet know the significance of that but we may soon get our chance. Lieutenant, what if I had a mission for you?"

She was right, he felt impossibly worse than he did before as the injections took hold, even with the painkillers. He pulled the blood bag needle out of his neck just as the motor clicked off from the empty blood bag. He looked at her incredulously.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. ONI has their tricks and games, but I always win. Know why? Short-sightedness. They want to WIN a war. I want to END it, but I'd settle for survival. Even if a bit unconventional, I believe I've found a way. Although maybe not in time and definitely not without some drawbacks. As I watch them, they watch me..." She trailed off but Six pushed past it.

"What did you have in mind?"

She smiled. "Just like that? What if I told you the odds were one in a million? That your likelihood of failure is almost guaranteed? That you'll probably die today either way?"

"But there's a chance," he pushed.

She nodded slowly, face giving away nothing.

"What do you need," he asked flatly.

She motioned for him to follow and made a beeline out of med bay and to her office. Six briefly looked around the tables where legends had once been before turning to follow her.

"The military loves their protocols. If they had their way, everything would be quantifiable, organized, and fit in a neat little box. When they announced the Winter Contingency on Reach, it sparked a laundry list of other protocols. Everyone was so surprised... Winter Contingency. Here. At the center of humanity's military might. I remember speaking with Hood about this eventuality. It was a statistical certainty. Now that it's here, I am supposed to be executing the White Glove protocol."

"They want all of this destroyed?"

"Oh yes. ONI is so protective of their toys. However, there's something I would loathe to see erased. In fact, I wonder if that wasn't part of their plan. I believe it's too valuable. I've already disposed of Araqiel but there's more than a few AI's down here that I won't be parting with just yet. But what I want you to take is something that humanity would benefit from if they could get it."

"And you want me to take it to them."

She paused at her door then turned to look at him. "If that's easier, then, yes. I want you to take something to them. The journey, I imagine, will be more important than the destination."

She opened the door and was greeted by another voice. "Hello, Doctor Halsey. I see we have a guest." An AI, he realized, as she manifested in front of him in her digital form.

"How very astute, Kalmiya," the aging doctor responded sarcastically.

"I aim to please," the AI responded. Six cocked an eyebrow at her choice of words.

"Kalmiya, I need you to load and assemble Protocol Foothold." The doctor spoke mechanically as she began sifting around on her desk. She pocketed a notebook, a permanent marker, and a pen.

"Are you sure, Doctor? The parameters of our models did not account for current circumstances. The chances that this one could even secure a slip-space capable ship are infinitesimal. And even with that accomplished, the calculations and simulations are nowhere near complete enough to..."

Halsey held up a hand to silence her creation. "It's the only option available to us." The doctor looked at Noble Six but continued to speak only to her AI. "You know what happens next, with or without this. I may very well have to wipe every scrap of data we have, including Foothold, and even you. Years of research wasted. Can you calculate the idea of losing all that and how long it would take us to rebuild?"

The AI figure closed her eyes for a few seconds. "Of course, doctor Halsey," the AI responded. "Materials needed are in the armory, though lacking in some respects. We did not receive all components, per our earlier discussion. There's a replacement from Beweglichkeitsrüstungsysteme available in addition to a full set, extra parts, and pieces. The construct is in your desk where you left it. It should suffice."

As the AI closed her eyes to assemble whatever Foothold was, Halsey continued to speak with Six.

"I need you to deliver some documents and other items," Halsey said, finally speaking to the Spartan. She collected what appeared to be two data crystal chips from a desk drawer. She put one in her lab coat pocket and held up the remaining chip in front of Six.

"This is far beyond even my reckoning, Lieutenant. This is our one in a million. This is perhaps the most important potential discovery that we have at our disposal. This chip could very well save our entire species. It also might be absolutely nothing. If it stays, it will be wiped like everything else and then we will never know. But you can do what I could not."

It was an orange hue. Six eyed it suspiciously. What was this mad scientist on about?

"If I were to give this to you, how would you get it off of this planet?" It was a simple question but answering it stretched the tired Spartan's mind. His enhanced synapses calculated odds and possible avenues.

"Modify my original plan," he said casually after a moment of thought. "Get enough attention to attract a dropship, use the dropship to infiltrate a smaller covenant ship. Clear the ship, jump to Alpha Site in New Mombasa."

She stared at him with a mildly amused look but he held her gaze.

"Determined to make it, I see. And what about the Covenant on that ship who will stop at nothing to see you fail?"

The Spartan shrugged, even as pain arced through his shoulders and neck. "Thought I'd try shooting my way through," he said simply. "If it goes south, I have the Mjolnir failsafe. Still leaves everything White Glove."

The Doctor crossed her arms and sat on the front of her desk. She was quiet and pensive before looking up at him. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but sincere.

"You remind me of him..." she finally said as if remembering something long ago and far away. "That quiet confidence... I may not have agreed with your program, Spartan, but you and your team have certainly earned your titles here on Reach." She seemed like she had more to say but held her peace and instead held out the chip. "Can you do this, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, ma'am."

He nodded, finally accepting the data crystal as she held it out to him again and settling it away into one of the pouches that hadn't been destroyed.

He looked up but she was unreadable once again.

"Well then, let's get you outfitted." She moved to the door and he followed.

They spent the elevator ride back to Aqua Level in silence. When the doors opened she walked in front of him and he followed her into the armory. He searched around for a few moments and promptly began to load himself up. He filled every available and intact pouch, reloaded his shotgun, and grabbed another DMR and placed it on his back next to the plasma rifle. He heard some grunting and looked over to the doctor who had fished an ODST helmet from a bottom shelf. She looked like she was examining the back of it but he couldn't see for sure. She brought the clearly used helmet to him and gestured for him to bend. He bent over and she put it on, testing the seal and activating the HUD.

"It won't display your shield level, but it should keep you from any further head trauma. This version has VISR, not that it will do you any good, and basic weapon and ammunition readout. It's not ideal but it will at least sync with your neural interface and keep your head in one piece."

He nodded as the faceplate polarized and the BIOS flashed before it read his neural interface. His estimated health readout flashed in red. He didn't mention it showed between 30-35%. She held out a canister, gesturing that he turn around.

"The MK V doesn't have the injectors so keep this handy. If I had a MK VI around here I'd certainly give it to you. But until you find proper medical personnel and a facility, removing that armor now is too risky. Until then, this will have to suffice." She connected it to an available strap on his armor

"There's a Mk VI?" He asked. Now that was something he was interested in.

"They've been working on it for a long time now. As soon as one version is done, they're already working on the next. I say that as if I'm not the one doing it. The Mk VI isn't even finished beyond preliminary tests and there are already plans for a Mk VII. Nothing mass produced for the VI within the next few months, at least, but there are test models around. Even some variants that privately contracted companies have been working on. Those are more rare. Here on Reach, and being the creator of the original Spartan program and Mjolnir, has it's advantages when ordering test models. As I said, though, if I had any then I would give them to you."

He hung his head a little. A MK VI would have been a hell of a thing to try on and he missed it by that much.

"Your power supply looks damaged. It's safety and containment features are intact, however. No immediate risk of going critical." She looked at some other information read out on his back. "Shields holding at 74% so at least you'll have some protection." She lightly grabbed his arm and turned him to face her.

"You'll find four big, green boxes next to the conveyor belt in the room past this one. They are essential to your mission. They're sealed, durable, and not to be opened. ONI may be a circus but they're good with packaging at least. Believe me, none of it was easy to secure. It wasn't meant for you. It was meant for Fred. But I think you're uniquely suited for this. Only open them if you read the situation as hopeless." She left no room for a question. Six was suddenly very aware how this civilian had outshone her military counterparts, how she had known about his program in the first place.

"Understood."

She nodded. "Good. Now load those crates on the conveyor. When you leave the armory, follow the hallway to the right all the way down. I think I can help with the first part of your plan"

Six shook his head in annoyance as she spun on her heel and exited. He made his way to the next section and found the boxes. They were about 1 meter high, 1.5 meters wide, and at least another meter deep. He turned the conveyor on and saw the spinning yellow light activate as the motors hummed to life and the belt began to rotate. He grabbed the first box and severely underestimated the weight, nearly dropping it. He could only guess at what was inside. He braced himself and hefted it again, this time successfully moving it to the conveyor belt. Each box was heavier than the last and he felt the pain in every wound, every sore muscle, and every overtaxed tendon as he almost cried out moving the last box. It disappeared behind the flaps. He was breathing heavy now and steadied himself for a moment before limping out of the door. His headache had only gotten worse and he was even feeling a bit dizzy now but he noted that his limp had improved.

He slowly made his way down the hallway and pressed the pad next to the door as it lifted. He smiled almost imperceptibly at what his eyes landed on. That doctor was a very crafty woman.

Before him stood a pelican, unblemished from the war that had been waged overhead and gleaming even in the low light. He heard a slam and he turned to see Halsey slowly standing back up after having been hunched over the boxes he'd sent on the conveyor.

She wiped the palms of her hands on her lab coat as she strode over to him. He nodded his head in the direction of the pelican.

"Plan B," he said.

She smiled wryly at his comment. "Don't be mistaken, Lieutenant. This will not be easy, no matter what happens next. A situation like this, you can make all the right decisions and still lose."

He sobered somewhat at that.

"Well, come on. Those boxes won't load themselves."

He hurried over to them and lifted one to carry it over to the open hatch of the Pelican. "What's in these?"

She brushed him away as he walked by her. "Classified, Lieutenant. I'm sure you understand. And they will stay that way until the situation reads hopeless."

He walked by her on his way to the second one. Whatever she had given him earlier was still making his head spin but his pain level was finally subsiding, the soreness becoming less. He hefted the second box and began walking toward his escape craft while she began her instructions.

"There's a CRS class cruiser in orbit. I'd guess since it's almost directly above us that it might be down 50 soldiers. Give or take 20," she said dryly.

"If you can make it inside, all you need to do is get to the bridge and install that chip. I know covenant systems may look confusing but that chip will automatically sync with any port. Shouldn't take long."

Six moved for the third box and walked back to the Pelican.

"The Pelican is fully stocked with a hard drop load out," she continued" You won't be hurting for weapons on your trip. There's even some spare parts under the deck plating. Your ODST helmet will link with the weapons system just fine."

He dropped the last box in the Pelican and ensured all four were strapped down. The Pelican could easily handle the couple tons of his estimated weight worth of cargo but it would alter his trajectory when maneuvering. The seals on the door looked good and the cockpit canopy was undamaged. He really hoped that his suit was still capable of hard vacuum. Raising an eyebrow, he worked his way back to her. He had suddenly had a thought.

"Is this chip an AI?" He asked.

"Not that particular one. It's a series of self-altering algorithms, formulas, and automated processes built for singular purpose. It does, however, have very basic interaction routines. It's more akin to a dumb AI. Purpose built. Why?"

"Will it respond to vocal commands?"

Now she was interested. A smile played along the corners of her mouth.

"It does, yes. But only for specific purposes. Along with its intended purpose, it also has rudimentary subroutines for the most basic functions of software writing. Again, why?"

"Can this thing vent the atmosphere on a ship?"

She gave a genuine smile, the first he'd seen since they'd met at the door.

"Unconventional and creative. I like it! Yes, it should respond to a simple command like that. No guarantees, but it's simple software to write and process."

He nodded. "I'll send someone as soon as I make it wherever I end up."

"I like the confidence, Lieutenant, but try to keep an open mind about everything that happens. Under no circumstances are you to lose that chip. And when you insert that chip, it will handle the slipspace for you. Wherever you come out, you may be in a bad way but I imagine you won't be alone for long."

"Covenant," he said simply.

"You wouldn't believe how unlikely that might be. As I said, open mind. Not everyone is your enemy."

"Understood."

"We'll see. I also read about your work with the Sabre program. Think you can handle that thing," she asked as she nodded to the Pelican.

He nodded affirmative. "Yes, ma'am."

He was about to turn and go but she stopped him unexpectedly with a soft hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you again, Lieutenant. This means a lot to us. To all of humanity. As I said, keep an open mind and..." She paused before exhaling heavily but holding his gaze. "I'm sorry to put you through this. There was no other way."

"I'll be fine."

Without another word he turned and walked up the ramp of the pelican and sat down in the pilot's seat. He started firing up the engines. Halsey had walked over to the exit but stopped at a control panel. She pressed a series of buttons and Six looked up to see the ceiling begin to open. With a final wave, he nodded again to her. She turned and the door closed behind her.

Six latched his harness closed as the engines spooled up to maximum power. He hit the stabilizers, closed the back hatch, thruster control, and slowly lifted off the hangar deck. He flipped the control for the landing gear and steadied the craft.

"You're on your own, Noble," Carter's words flew through his mind once more.

"Not for long, sir," Six said out loud.

His helmet flashed with a new waypoint directly above him. He held the stick steady and rotated thruster control until they pointed straight down then slammed the thruster control as far forward as it would go. The Pelican lurched as all four hybrid fusion drives slammed the ship upward at an incredible pace. The Pelican rattled and shook violently. He had pushed the engines to full burn which wasn't something you typically did. Especially without warming them up. Desperate times.

When the altimeter showed 2,000 feet he pulled back half way on the throttle, yanked the stick back until the pelican stood completely vertical and once again pushed the throttle forward to it's maximum. He rocketed straight up, his destination appearing as a speck on his helmet and the screen in front of him. Within a few minutes the speck became a shape as he pushed to the edges of the atmosphere. The amorphous shape grew into a recognizable one within another minute. But it also began to move.

He flipped a switch in the cockpit as the reticle in his helmet lined up with the M370 chingun mounted on the front as it spooled up ready to deliver high-explosive, depleted uranium rounds wherever his head turned. His LIDAR came up in his field of view and red dots began to appear in front of him. A warning alarm rang and lights flashed on his controls. Enemy fighters. A separate siren went off alerting that enemy weapons were warming up. He queued up every countermeasure he had, armed the eight misses he had and sat back.

'Now or never,' he thought.

Doctor Halsey sat at her desk and felt ten years older. Her whole life had been spent sacrificing others for the greater good. She had learned the error of her thinking before the Spartan II program had even finished. She had so many regrets but everything had been necessary, or so she told herself. And necessity still required sacrifice. She knew more than most that strategic sacrifice was still better than chance. Had she sent another soldier to his death? Perhaps. But with ONI tightening the noose, she was out of options. Their games had taken new form when Cortana had revealed Section III's latest operation. They'd been communicating with what had at first seemed an impossibility; a completely different existence. If her few glimpses into the other side were any indication, she guessed THEY might be out of time too. She only hoped they could reconcile quickly. They'd all need each other for the coming wars.

A familiar orange figure appeared in front of her. "Doctor Halsey, I believe I understand what you're hoping to accomplish but I must inform you that the odds of success are very slim. All of your research was based on theory and utilized the Shaw-Fujikawa drive as the answer to infinite gravity within a singularity. Of course, running slip space is the only option to negate the physics of a black hole while traveling through but it's still only conjecture. However, our calculations were based off of a Prowler or Frigate. None of our models ever accounted for a covenant drive, technology, or their ship dimensions. Will your program account for the differences? Can a Spartan succeed, or should they, where perhaps a diplomat may be more effective?"

Halsey stared off into space for a moment. "First Kalmiya, never tell me the odds. Second, the only way we've ever made progress was by pushing limits and taking chances. Third..." She paused thinking of the Lieutenant and the others like him, few as they were now. "We created them to take the chances we couldn't. To push the limits we were never meant to break. He might not be one of mine but if any one of these second generation Spartans could pull off the impossible..." She trailed off briefly. "I hope he shares more than a rating with him. I hope he may just share his luck too. We all should hope as much."

There was a small pause. "Forgive me, Doctor. My calculations did not account for a variable such as luck. Would you like me to run scenarios?"

Halsey rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Kalmiya."

"Yes, Doctor."

Noble Six steeled himself. Plasma flew at him from several vectors. His Spartan Time slowed them to a crawl. He could predict incoming fire angles before they became threatening. He lined up the chain gun and pressed the trigger, watching as the rounds punched into space with all the fury Reach had left. He didn't bother counting the craft or even how many he hit. As soon as the indicators flashed alerting him to tangos on his six, he dropped flares, hit directional jammers, flooded the spectrum of space with rainbow laser blinders, and launched all 8 missiles after targeting the guns on the rapidly turning cruiser. Missiles were away before they could bring broadsides to bear.

His indicators lit up again. Incoming from the rear and front. He spun, wobbled, yawed, zigged, and zagged but he did not break trajectory. Port side hangar was his beeline. He started getting peppered with plasma rounds from behind. He lost power to an engine as the alert came on. Engine fire. No matter. Wouldn't last long in the vacuum.

His speed didn't decrease anyway. He was getting closer, pitching from side to side to avoid the heavier plasma rounds. But it was getting shaky the closer he got. He avoided one round and took the other almost directly to the front of the cockpit. The metal and glass warped under the glancing heat but held. He kept his hand on the thruster. He was seconds away from the shielded interior of his prize. Another round shook him and spun the Pelican off course. He corrected but not enough as the round launched his trajectory too low, he rotated the thrusters until they faced down to force him back up but not by enough.

He braced as he put the thrusters in full reverse and throttled up while pulling the stick back. His nose clipped the bottom lip of the opening in the cruiser. The nose stayed pointed down as the rest of his ship pitched up. He finally released the nose and the entire craft went up. He hit the ceiling hard, crunching metal and screeching alloys met with sparks and smoke and he ricocheted from ceiling to floor. He could feel wounds split back open between G forces and impact even with the gel layer of his armor compensating for the pressure. He hit the emergency engine stop and flipped the back hatch open before the pelican had even ground to a halt. The scrambled fighters we're no doubt heading back to the hangar already. He pulled up two plasma rifles and jumped from the back of his crash site just as it skidded to a halt. He locked onto a number of grunts, Jackals, and even an elite. They roared and screamed but the veteran Spartan wasn't going to lose this close the finish line. He sprinted full speed and unloaded both rifles at the elite, shattering his shield and shredding flesh until he dropped. He clipped a rifle to his back and pulled two grenades, one at a time, and threw them left and right, finding their targets perfectly, as he vaulted over the fallen elite and made for the bridge. The doors closed behind him as the explosions in the hangar sounded off.

He met two Jackals with shields up, he ducked incoming needles and unloaded the remainder of the clip on one plasma rifle, forcing them to cover behind their shields. He pulled an energy sword and activated it. He reached them too quickly for them to react. Six pierced the shield of one in an uppercut motion and followed through with his swing, skewering the body of the alien and then pinning it to the ceiling. He kicked out at the remaining Jackal directly in the shield, crushing the jackal against the wall with its own defense and holding the alien in place. He pulled the sword from the first as it dropped to the ground, and whipped the sword hard and fast down on the other one, separating exposed head from body.

He heard an angry roar and turned to see three elites between him and his destination. He turned slowly toward them and pulled out the second sword, the snap hiss of his weapon cutting through the silence. He charged before they could, the power from his lunge forward denting the floor, full speed as plasma rounds bounced off his already damaged shields. The two on the sides pumped round after round into him as his shields died and he clashed blade to blade with the Elite in the middle. He launched his left hand out and stabbed the elite on the left in his foot, earning a pained roar. He took a blow to the face from the one on the right from his plasma rifle, he heard a crack from his helmet. His HUD flashed in and out.

Desperate now he snatched the hand of the elite from the left as it brought its alien weapon up. Six re-aimed it just as the trigger was pulled. 4 rounds went off on the face of the alien in the middle who dropped. Six whipped his sword down hard on the right most enemy and nearly sheared him in two while simultaneously pulling his left sword out of the foot of the creature on his left and cutting him from groin to chin. They all dropped in a heap. He stomped the skull of the one in the middle when it twitched, crushing it. He took a second to let his shields recharge and cracked his neck.

The mission came first. And at full speed and intensity, it took him 10 minutes to reach his destination as he cut down anyone who wasn't smart enough or fast enough to run.

The bridge of the cruiser had alarms blaring, commotion was high, and aliens were scrambling, trying to get their fighters back. It was a ship built for support and reconnaissance. It wasn't built to hold armies or even repel boarders. The familiar, musical hum followed by the click of a moving door froze the aliens and they turned. The lone wolf slowly strolled through the door, plasma grenades in both hands. He took five steps in and stopped. Covered in blood, both his and theirs, he wondered how he must look to them. He heard the click and whine of loading plasma rifles, the low but insistent hum of overcharging plasma pistols, the crackle of activated energy swords, and the scratching sound of metal on glass as needle rounds were loaded in the now familiar symphony of everything humanity had come to fear. But it was his turn. The Spartan wasn't even breathing hard. His senses were razor sharp, heart steady, and mind focused. Here at the brink, at his probable end, he was the best he had ever been. He felt the growls, snarls, and chittering of his enemies punctuating the intensity of the situation as they all began to close in on him.

He was hunched over, faceplate split, shields crackling in and out of life, skin suit with flesh underneath punctured and resealed with biofoam to refill the holes, and armor plating warped and disfigured but holding. He held his hands out in front of him and showed the grenades. He didn't know which one would be first, and he didn't know if he'd make it much further beyond that. But by Mjolnir's explosive failsafe or his own firepower, they were all going with him one way or another.

His helmet speakers burped and crackled to life, the broken tech amplifying his words in a scratchy baritone.

"I'm ready," he said.

They closed in. Like a coiled spring, he felt them about to move with vicious intent.

"How 'bout you?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - They just go missing in action

"What little information I have been able to glean from around all of the redaction [note—I was quite literally expecting the ONI to start redacting page numbers] gives the impression that S-312 is more akin to a hyper-lethal vector than a soldier. A lone-wolf assassin that has broken organizations and made entire militia groups disappear. At first glance S-312 doesn't sound like the best fit for a team environment like NOBLE. However, we've been down a man for over a month—and frankly there are hidden benefits to a XXX like S-312. Call it the luck of the draw. S-293's 1156 has been filed since 22/04/2552, every active duty Spartan-II is on XXX for special training, and it seems that XXX wasn't able to keep his own private grim reaper out of the pool—only time will tell if this luck is of the good or bad variety."

-S-312 Service Record, Additional Comments

Arcturus Station - 2182 CE

Corporal Roman Boyd was being as lazy as he could possibly get away with. He was in the QEC center monitoring certain sections of quantum communications. He was mostly transmitting data from Earth to the Citadel or the Fifth Fleet parked outside his little outpost. He also monitored certain intelligence vessels in various parts of space. Their data was always encoded and he only had to send it along exactly as it came in. Right now he had three to observe but for the most part, their communication was dead.

This was supposed to be a fast track to intelligence but Boyd had been there for 9 months now and heard enough to know that, Top Secret clearance required for the position aside, none of his team was going anywhere quick. He learned secrets, exchanged sensitive information, and could recall off the top of his head every clandestine operation the Alliance Military had between here and the Serpent Nebula and he couldn't be more bored. What his job really was involved monitoring changes in particles, recording the data, reviewing it, then sending it off to it's next location. He was a glorified telegraph operator.

He sighed and sat back in his seat.

"You alright, Boyd?"

The young Corporal smiled and swiveled in his chair. Sergeant Mellisa Mendoza was the only part of his job he enjoyed. She had been here longer than he had and, although she was a pay grade above him, she shared the same billet. Only the Staff NCOs and Officers held any power here. She was as stuck as he was and, although bookish and sometimes awkward, he found her appealing by virtue of being the only attractive woman in his team. Blonde hair, silver eyes, and an easy smile. He liked blondes. And she was sweet. That, and her uniform couldn't hide those curves.

"Fine, Mendoza. Just trying to stave off a coma."

"Well, last I checked, the coffee is still free," she smiled.

"That is not coffee. That is a cement based sludge with caffeine added."

"You get what you pay for."

"I'd happily take a cut in pay for some proper beverage options. Recycled water and instant coffee can only go so far."

She laughed. "I can tell you one thing, Boyd; it's much worse than you think. Those protein bars they hand us between meal times? Those are recycled too."

Boyd stared at her open-mouthed as he slowly mulled over the implications. As it dawned on him, her face broke into a savage grin. "So when I tell you to 'eat shit...'"

Boyd made a very real and very loud gagging sound. "Oh my god..."

She laughed. "Relax, Boyd. I'm just fucking with you."

Boyd laughed with her but he felt a bit humiliated that he'd been so gullible. That, and his stomach was still turning. He quirked an eyebrow when he watched her smile fade. She was looking past him.

"Hey, Boyd? What's that?"

He turned back to his console. It was alerting him to particle movement. It wasn't uncommon for random movements. The particles were all connected to various machines and software to filter out superfluous movements but every now and again quantum noise snuck in. Quantum entanglement at it's finest. But this movement, though unable to be translated just now, appeared more focused in it's intent.

"Huh," he said. "Never seen this one move before."

"What's it connected to?"

"An Intel vessel. Deep cover."

"Ah, another encrypted mystery message."

But Boyd didn't answer. The data being compiled by the console based off of the particle movement, where a moment ago was gibberish, was suddenly translating into perfectly understandable English. An intelligence stealth vessel did not transmit anything readable. Everything was encrypted.

It read: "Anyone receiving this, respond."

When Boyd hesitated, the Sergeant noticed. "Boyd, what's going on?"

"I'm not sure... This is definitely weird. I think the Dresden wants me to respond but it's not encrypted. Maybe they're in trouble?"

Mendoza left her terminal and came to see for herself.

"Huh," she stated. "Maybe you should respond... Weird that a spook ship would send unencoded traffic. They're pretty strict with that. Want me to get the Lieutenant?"

Boyd was about to respond when the particle motion sensor began relaying more information.

The data read out in English again.

"Arcturus Station, this is SSV Dresden. Send your traffic."

"What the hell," Mendoza said.

More text followed.

"SSV Dresden, this is not Arcturus Station. Are you reading this message? Are you human?"

There was a long pause as the Dresden went dark. It suddenly dawned on Boyd that he was seeing two sides of a conversation. No more communication came through. Boyd sat up in his seat and hesitated for a moment, hand in front of the transmitter.

"Boyd... Think about this," the blonde argued. "We're probably in way over our heads here. Definitely above our pay grade."

Boyd licked his lips and began hitting buttons. His message would be broken down into binary, sent to a machine within the station which would manipulate the particle quantum entangled to it's twin on the Dresden into polarity shifts that translated into 1's and 0's. Except it wasn't just him and the Dresden anymore.

"Attention unknown party," he typed. "This is Arcturus Station. Identify."

"This shouldn't be possible," the Sergeant said. "You can't entangle three particles... Can you?"

"I don't know. I mean, it's possible in theory but not like this. They can't just pick a couple of particles and entangle with them. It's almost like they weren't even sure which, if any, particles they actually got into. They're acting like they're not any more sure than us who's talking to who."

He received a response in less than a minute.

"Arcturus Station, thank you for confirming successful communication. What is your governing body? Are you human?"

Boyd responded hesitantly. He wasn't sure anymore what the right call was. Protocol was unclear. There was no specific rule for this situation. General orders stipulated going dark when communication may be compromised but they also demanded that an unknown party be advised they were breaking human laws by communicating in the first place. He'd probably be reprimanded but this was too strange not to interact with. Besides, it wasn't threatening anyone. Whoever this was seemed as lost as he was.

"This station and this channel are property of the System's Alliance, a human government and military asset. Continuing to transmit on this channel may be taken as hostile action. Confirm receipt of message and identify yourself."

Mendoza was now leaned in over him watching the events unfold. She smelled amazing. He hoped he did too.

"Did you just tell them to shut up and answer questions at the same time?"

Boyd waved her off. A full minute passed. Neither him nor the Sergeant said a word. When the response came, they had no idea what to make of it.

"Arcturus Station, forgive the intrusion. Our intent is not hostility. We intend to be your allies. You may call us the USUAL SUSPECTS. Keep this channel open. We will be in touch."

Last transmission received. The Corporal attempted several more times to raise the mystery transmitter but no further communication ensued. After it became clear that no one would answer, Boyd licked his lips again and sat back. He swiveled, turning to Mendoza. She was so close to him now, his heart began to pound.

"Can we please get the Lieutenant now?" she said dryly.

"Fuck the Lieutenant. Get me an Admiral."

Crescent Nebula, Milky Way - 2185 CE

Commander Jane Shepard stared at the Galaxy map before her.

Yeoman Kelly Chambers caught the Captain's distant stare. The Yeoman herself was a jack of all trades but crew health and well-being was her favorite among her many specialties. Shepard was her personal project and not just because Kelly admired the Commander's high cheekbones, bright green eyes, flame red hair, and the jealousy-inducing build always hidden beneath ceramic armor. If even half the stories were to be believed, the stress the commander was under would be immense. And despite all her years of intense research and training, the Yeoman couldn't help but feel a little inadequate. She hadn't seen anything more dangerous than pub brawls. And she didn't have the first clue about how to assist someone who came back from the dead. Kelly's goal was to be helpful and keep Shepard focused and moving in the right direction even if the Commander had never shown her any indication of folding under pressure.

"The Galaxy is quite large, is it not, Commander?" She cursed herself for such a stupid choice of words.

"It's getting smaller, Kelly. Every day is one day closer to another Collector ambush, another Geth problem, and finally the Reapers."

Kelly didn't get the reaction she was hoping for. Shepard came in layers, or so the psychology expert had observed. Top layer was her authority. Shepard was an experienced soldier and N7 officer with more awards to her name than a Turian General. The first human Spectre the Council had ever chosen and she had accomplished her first mission with tracking down Saren and so much more. Her second layer was her trademark attitude. Shepard was funny, sarcastic, even playful when she wanted to be. If you earned the Commander's respect, or her ire, you'd be welcomed to this other side of her in varying flavors and depths. There was a third level to Jane, however. Kelly felt almost honored on the rare occasions she saw it. She didn't even know what to call it. It was what lay before her now. It was the culmination of loss, of failure, the weight of her choices and the insurmountable destiny in her future.

Kelly noted the hunched shoulders, the slightly hanging head, the thousand yard stare; the third layer. The Yeoman had tried many times to scratch that surface but had never gotten the veteran officer to speak about it. Losing every soldier she had on Akuze, her loss of Kaidan, or the reapers, perhaps? Or did it go back further? Maybe her history growing up as a military brat and never learning to form meaningful relationships. Maybe it was as simple as dying and then living to remember it.

"You're doing that face again, Kelly." The Yeoman snapped out of her thoughts, wide-eyed, and met the Commander's green gaze.

"Apologies, Commander. I was miles away," she said breathlessly. Her cheeks flushed.

Shepard flashed her that winning smile. "It's alright, Kelly. We're all miles away from everything."

Her tone was light and whimsical. Kelly smiled with only a touch of sadness. She was back to the second layer.

A ping went off as EDI appeared on her holopad. Shepard turned to face her, always amused by the VI's appearance as an inverted exclamation mark. "Commander Shepard."

"Yes, EDI," the redhead responded with mock sweetness.

"Miranda has requested your presence in her office."

Jane rolled her eyes. "And did the regent queen of the Normandy tell you what this is regarding?"

"No, Commander. But she did request that you come alone."

Shepard turned and looked at Kelly. "And right now, I wish I was miles away from our favorite Cerberus operative. As you were, Kelly." Shepard gave a mock salute and proceeded to strut toward the elevator.

"Of course, Commander," Kelly responded.

Shepard waited patiently as the elevator went from 2nd to 3rd deck. As if there was any other way to ride the elevator BUT patiently. Shepard briefly mused that there was some connection between not wanting to see Miranda and how damn slow this elevator was. She was sure there was a joke in there somewhere but her thoughts were interrupted as the doors opened and Samara greeted her.

"Commander," the millennial knight greeted simply.

'And here we go,' the Commander thought. "Yes, Samara?"

The commander walked toward Miranda's office.

"I would like to speak with you when you have a moment."

Shepard had almost reached Mrianda's door. "I'll be with you in a bit. Right now I have to face down the biggest threat in this system."

Samara frowned. "The Collectors?" Jane stopped at the door, turned, and almost laughed at the Justicar's worried look.

"I'm sure Miranda has been called worse but close enough."

The ancient Asari's face went from concern to confusion. "Perhaps I am misunderstanding."

"You've met Miranda, right?"

The Justicar responded simply with "Yes. I have."

Jane smirked at her overly serious shipmate. "Well, I know you only just swore your sword to me like a week or two ago, but if you stick around for a while I'm sure you'll feel the same way." Jane turned to open the office door.

"Commander... It's about Morinth."

Jane froze. She turned slowly and met Samara's gaze. She had only just learned what an Ardat Yakshi was and had even less time to process that the Justicar onboard had birthed three of them. One, Morinth, was a serial killer. Dominating the minds, frying the nervous systems, and consuming the souls of her victims. Asari had access to psychic powers that were hand-in-hand with their natural biotic abilities. Shepard had been on the receiving end of a meld or two. One had even been erotic in nature. She still dreamed about that one. But to have something so intimate and intrusive forced upon someone, she couldn't begin to imagine. Samara's entire reason for giving up all she was to become a Justicar came from Morinth.

Shepard moved to speak but was stopped by the Asari.

"Not just now, Commander. When you're ready. I'm not entirely sure that I am yet. But it must be addressed. I believe I have a lead on her whereabouts. Find me when there is time."

Jane closed her mouth and nodded before watching Samara turn and head for what she assumed was the observation deck. The redhead did manage to note that the Asari even managed to turn the act of telling someone to shut up into a graceful exercise in hand movement. Shaking the thoughts clear, she hit the button and walked inside Miranda's office.

She was seated at her oversized desk, dressed in another skintight, latex looking bodysuit. She didn't bother looking up as the Commander approached.

"Miranda, we've got to stop meeting like this."

The Cerberus operative held a cool face and spoke but not to Jane. "EDI, please seal this room. Electronically as well. I want no record of this conversation."

"Of course, Miss Lawson." EDI spoke through a speaker in the ceiling. Jane raised an eyebrow.

"That's a handy new trick. Does she do anything else I should be aware of?"

Miranda finally looked up and leaned back in her seat.

"Commander, I sent you a full manual on EDI that you never bothered to read. But I'd much prefer to discuss something potentially sensitive, if you don't mind."

Jane made a face and looked down at the operative's cleavage. "Be honest with me, Miranda. Your genetics weren't the only thing you enhanced, right?"

"You're one to talk, Lazarus," she retorted.

"Fair point," Jane said with a pause. She was convinced now that Cerberus had gone the extra mile while reviving her. Clothes and armor hadn't quite fit the same since. Her waist had stayed the same but everything else had increased just so slightly. She was still very self-conscious about it but she wouldn't give Miranda the satisfaction.

"But I don't leave my catsuits unzipped to the sternum to show everyone either," Shepard finished.

Miranda pursed her lips but wasn't taking the bait any longer. Jane, however, couldn't help herself now that the banter had started. This was the only part of speaking with Miranda she enjoyed.

"And, speaking of catsuits, don't you have any other clothes? I see you in that every day of the week. Is it the same one or did you buy them in bulk?"

The biotic's face was slowly turning pink. "Commander, we have no time for what passes as your humor. Do not prod at me because Doctor Chakwas prods at you." She recomposed herself and continued. "Now, I have received a transmission from a contact that I believe is worth investigating."

Jane held up a hand. "I've had enough of Tim's leads. If he wants something done, he can contact me directly or, better idea, take his idea and shove it right back up his..."

"Shepard! Enough. This has nothing to do with the Illusive Man. Not until we know more. This is serious. I believe it's worth investigating and I believe you'll agree."

Jane wasn't so sure. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait, Miranda. We have a lot of objectives and even more ground to cover and we..." Her words died in her throat as Miranda turned the screen. Jane stepped closer and had to consciously close her mouth.

"What is that," she asked. All humor now dissipated.

"I have no idea. And neither does my contact."

Miranda, as far as Jane could tell, was unshakable. Jane, of course had made it her mission to give the curvy conwoman a hard time. Miranda was strong; she was all purpose, focused, and ambitious to the point of annoyance. Shepard admired some of her qualities but Miranda was as hard as stone and difficult to like at times. But underneath that manipulative, sociopathic exterior, Jane had seen flashes of humanity. She had a heart in there somewhere and it showed only briefly. Never enough to let anyone close but enough sometimes to remind Jane that she wasn't all ice. But when the usually stony face of the operative in front of her broke into real concern, like now, Jane noticed. The Commander continued.

"If that's what it looks like... I don't even know what that looks like."

"I believe it is at least enough to warrant a look."

"I've never seen anything like it... Is it Reapers or Collectors, maybe?"

"It could be but it matches nothing. Not even close. Might be first contact, even."

Jane followed the contoured lines, the odd angles, with her eyes. It was a blurry image, obviously taken from a distance.

"Where is this," Jane asked.

"Nemean Abyss. Commander, we're just outside of Illium. This is practically right in front of us. It could be worth a detour."

Shepard nodded in agreement. "Agreed. Do we know anything else about it? Did your contact get a closer look? Attempt contact? Are there any scans?"

"No, they did not. They took this image, noted the approximate location, and sent it directly to me. It transmitted no distress calls, attempted no hails. You may notice the distance the image was taken from."

"It crossed my mind."

"Well, therein lies an issue."

"Why is there always an issue... And who talks like that? What's the problem therein?"

Ignoring her jab, Miranda continued. She changed the image.

"My contact couldn't get close. He didn't have the capability. I believe the Normandy SR-2 will be more than capable."

Jane shifted her eyes from the new image to Miranda several times.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell if you're joking, Miranda. Because that looks like a black hole."

"It is. The object is far enough outside of it that it's stable for the time being. We won't know if it's being pulled in until we arrive. It may have been the singularity that cloaked it until now."

"Okay, I'm not great with astrophysics. Just tell me if it's safe or not."

"It should be. This singularity seems to have appeared overnight. There were no indicators of any black holes in this area until 16 hours ago. My contact was on a quite unrelated operation when they spotted this."

Jane stared Miranda down. Miranda, to her credit, revealed nothing.

"Commander, I know you don't trust me but surely you'd trust that one of my top interests is staying alive."

"Alright... I can get behind that. We'll check it out. Have everyone meet us in the briefing room. One hour." Jane turned to stride out of the office. She took satisfaction on the way out knowing Miranda hated when the Commander gave her frivolous orders.

"EDI?"

"I'm here, Commander."

"Since you weren't here for the conversation, Miss Lawson will provide coordinates. Make sure Joker gets us there."

"Understood, Commander."

"We picking up another fucking stray?"

Jane stood at the head of the table. She couldn't blame the psychotic biotic. Almost everything until now had been recruiting or ensuring her team was at their best. That meant personal missions. And while many would call it a waste of time and resources, no one in the known systems could argue her team's results. Jane believed that sort of "waste" to be integral to the status of her team.

"Negative, Jack. Not this time. EDI?"

EDI's avatar didn't appear. Instead, an extrapolated 3D image of a vessel appeared in the center of the table and began to spin slowly. Smooth, contoured lines gave it an ethereal flare, but it was the overpowering purple hue that gave it the alien quality that the room locked in on.

"Shepard, is that..."

"It could be, Garrus. But we don't know anything for sure."

The Turian sat back and held his tongue. Jane remembered him when she first knew him fresh out of C-Sec and ready to take off with her. His goal back then had been to make a difference in ways he never could as an officer. She always admired him for his idealism, but she respected him for his follow-through. Even after she had died two years ago, Garrus hadn't missed a beat. He was still affecting change but his experience had aged him, matured him. He had become Archangel; a feared, revered, and mysterious threat to organized crime Galaxy-wide. He was arguably the Commander's closest friend. She loved him for that.

"Image not detailed. No size to reference. Silhouette doesn't suggest geth or reapers. Possibly collectors. Outline of what could be weapons. High likelihood this is warship."

Mordin, the machine gun tongued scientist on board. His rapid staccato once again suggesting the man had no internal dialogue and instead voiced everything he thought. He was brilliant, even for his species, and had proven capable out in the field. He lacked a lot of social skills but he didn't lack bravery. His time in STG had made him infamous long before he joined the Commander. But now, he was a legend.

"It certainly looks like one. Hell, I've been all over the systems and never seen anything like that. But I know a broadside when I see one. Sure as goddamn been on the receiving end of enough of them."

The old man had certainly been around. Mercenary or not, Jane wouldn't complain about the skills Zaeed brought to the table. It was a toss up whether he had more scars or stories but he had plenty of both and didn't flinch when you needed him. Shepard always kept a close eye on him simply because he was suggested by Cerberus, talked too much, and always seemed to be the only survivor of his limitless stories. Garrus joked that his teams died just so they wouldn't have to hear anymore tales.

"No stories about abandoned purple warships?" Garrus prodded.

"The day is still young. I might get a story out of this yet, Turian," Zaeed scoffed.

"Samara, you're old as hell. You ever seen some shit like this?"

Jack, the wayward child. A prodigy biotic and the definition of unstable meets deadly. She had been nothing but hostile, foul-mouthed, and generally insufferable since they'd rescued her from that prison. Shepard liked her immediately. Though young, her prowess was incredible with biotics. The lailbird never admitted how much Shepard meant to her, but she knew. Her loyalty had been unwavering since her escape even if there was an attitude tax.

All eyes turned toward Samara now. To her credit, her face was as impassive as stone. "I have been many places over many years. I have seen many things but I have never come across anything resembling what lies before us now."

The Asari Justicar had been an issue at first. Shepard had barely known her and then promptly stepped in to help her escape jail, kill a criminal, then assist in tracking down the Asari's daughter to put an end to her too. Granted, her daughter was a murdering psychopath. Samara would not be stopped in her quest to mete out justice upon her own daughter. Jane never quite understood why the Asari had felt a sense of duty to swear herself to the Commander. But as a Justicar, she followed a code. Even though Jane disagreed with some aspects of it, she respected the commitment it brought and Samara was unquestionably effective. Her status as a Justicar was handy in dealing with people on occasion as well; particularly, other Asaris.

"Do we have any other info? Mordin says those protrusions could be guns and I'm inclined to agree. Depending on our approach, any details may be helpful."

Jacob. The armory agent. At first glance there didn't seem to be a whole lot to Jacob. Former Alliance military had earned some of Jane's trust but his decision to join Cerberus, while negative, wasn't malicious in nature. He had a lot of experience as a soldier, was always thinking tactically, and did everything he could to make sure everyone was safe. That, and he could make any weapon sing a symphony. He was quiet but confident. Jane liked both qualities.

"Sorry, Jacob," the Commander shrugged. "You know as much as me. Oh, uh... It's also not far away from a black hole."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Garrus interjected.

"With mass effect fields and enough distance, gravity well not dangerous. Normandy capable of mitigating risks. Depending on said distance," Mordin said. Jane suddenly felt much more confident in this mission with his level of reassurance. "Unaware of singularity in this region of space. Oddity. Perhaps connected to mystery ship."

"It's far enough from the gravity well that we should be in and out with minimal danger," Jane added.

"Well if there's any danger aboard, I certainly wouldn't mind having Jacob as close as possible. Of course, I wouldn't mind poking around a few cabins either. Some invisible recon."

The hooded, master thief. Kasumi was surprisingly outgoing for her job description. She could be in and out without anyone noticing, hide in plain sight (or turn invisible), and had a crush on Jacob that everyone but Jacob knew about. That, or the big man simply found it easier to ignore her. Kasumi puzzled Shepard but perhaps she shouldn't think on it too hard. The diminutive klepto did what she wanted, followed her whims, and generally seemed to just want to have fun... And have Jacob. Apart from that, she didn't shy from danger and happily assisted Jane whenever she asked.

"Which brings me to my next point, team. We don't know what to expect, or even how far this will go. Could be we make contact and turns out they just need a tow. Could be some debris that looks like a ship. Could be nothing at all. But since we don't know, we take no chances. Prepare to board. Garrus, Miranda, Kasumi, and Zaeed, you're with me on this one. I want full suits with helmets. We don't know if there's any atmo on that thing or any other potential hazards."

"What the fuck? Zaeed gets to go and I don't," Jack lashed out.

Zaeed smiled, his scars making him look just a bit creepy. "Age before beauty, Jack." He winked.

"Come again?" Garrus said.

"Gross," the biotic responded.

"Goddammit, you both knew what I meant," the Merc snapped.

"This isn't a discussion," Jane said raising her voice and ending the inevitable argument. She let the silence linger for a moment, challenging anyone to change the subject again. When no one spoke, she continued.

"Jacob, make sure our weapons and armor are top notch."

Jacob nodded.

"We don't know what to expect. This is uncharted territory we're flying into. It could be as simple as a lost experimental craft from known Citadel space. It might be Reapers, Geth, or Collectors. This may possibly be first contact, maybe even hostile. We'll attempt to hail first. If this is first contact, this meeting may have been for nothing. If it's anything else, we'll either be boarding, engaging, or running like hell."

Mordin spoke up. "Likely this could be trap. Need more data."

"We don't have it, Mordin. That's what we're hoping to get."

"If possible, bring back samples. Weapons, tech, specimens, or readouts will suffice."

Jane nodded.

"My team, we take the front. Clear the landing zone first then work our way to the bridge. Kasumi, you're my best shot at finding a black box, Captain's log, or relevant information but pick up anything that looks useful, valuable, or anything that looks like it would make Mordin breathe heavy. Garrus and Zaeed, you're damage control if needed. Miranda, you're my biotic today. Your find, your lead."

"I believe the expression is 'hope for best, prepare for the worst," the Turian added.

"Speak for yourself, mate. I'm bringing out Jessie with bells on. Let's hope we get to dance."

Jane shook her head. She had never understood her own ability to galvanize polar opposites into an effective team and every time she held a meeting, she always found herself wondering how any of them ever got anything done in the first place but her thoughts were interrupted by their pilot.

"Commander, we're five minutes out. You gotta see this thing. It looks like a big, purple stingray had a baby with a big, purple guitar."

"Thanks, Joker. Weird description. We're on our way. Dismissed, team."

Her crew hurried out the door, practically pushing past each other to get a look at it. Only the Justicar exit with any grace. Garrus stood by the door and waited for Jane.

"Let's go make some new friends, huh Garrus?"

"If by 'new friends' you mean picking up another potentially dangerous new teammate, I'm there, Shepard."

"For the last time, I'm not picking anyone up. Come on, Gary," she said brushing by him.

"I hate that name," he said quietly before following.

Jane and Garrus walked up to the cockpit.

"I trust that everyone is ready for an excursion," the Turian said. The group crowding the cockpit slowly turned around.

"That means weapons, maybe some armor... Also means clear the cockpit," he added.

Jane took the opportunity to enforce her faith in Garrus.

"You heard him. Jacob, get everyone loaded up and in the shuttle bay and stand by. Everyone else, scatter."

"Hurry up and wait, Commander?"

"Damn right. You remember how to do that, don't you?" She quipped.

Jacob smiled. "You never really forget. Alright, crew, you heard the Commander. Ground team, armory. Now. Everyone else, dismissed."

They shuffled off one by one as Jane and Garrus worked their way through the crowd. Joker was busy at work, or more accurately, arguing with the VI.

"I do not have any money, Mr. Moreau."

"EDI, you're missing the point. A bet has nothing to do with money."

"Then why is currency mentioned?"

"Because it's part of the humiliation of defeat! When you lose, not only do you suffer the humiliation of being wrong BUT I also make money."

"Mr. Moreau, I am unable to feel humiliated or compensate you."

"I would hope there's no gambling on my ship, Joker."

Joker was, as usual, undeterred. "It's not gambling if I already know this is a trap."

Jane leaned forward and caught sight of her latest unknown with her own eyes.

"Look at that," Garrus commented.

"Look? I'm not taking my eyes off that thing for a second. All sensors are up. If this thing moves, we're ninja dust. I'm not losing the Normandy again."

"We won't let that happen, Joker. I'd say your description was... surprisingly accurate. What have we got?"

"Take a look for yourself. Not bad looking but I'm not a fan of their color scheme. Purple just seems a little ostentatious."

Jane and Garrus exchanged a look. When no one responded, Joker turned.

"What? I've read a book. Try not to faint."

Jane gazed warily at the strange craft. It was about the size of an Alliance Cruiser, or any cruiser for that matter. But it resembled nothing she'd ever seen before. It was rounded, bulbous. It had smooth lines and looked almost innocuous if it weren't for the clear outline of it's guns. They looked damaged in some areas. Shepard wasn't familiar with them either only furthering her belief that this might truly be alien. It was dimly lit by flickering green lights.

"Warship or not, there's damage. You can see it from here. That hull looks like it took some hard knocks," Jane observed.

"Hmmmmm... Makes one wonder where their enemy might be. Or who they even are."

Garrus was shrewd and tactical, even for the militaristic race of Turians. Jane did wonder if there was another threat out there somewhere. Joker interrupted her thoughts.

"We're cloaked right now so my options are passive. The thing's not giving off any signals. No signs of life. Guns aren't powered up. Hell, nothing is powered up. I'm not even detecting eezo, which is weird, but it might be shielded. That or their core was damaged. I also don't show a kinetic barrier so it either doesn't have one or it's down. Weird thing is that black hole. We got a field up so it's not tugging at us too bad and the Kodiak should be fine out there but that ship isn't. It's being pulled in. Apart from that, EDI found an energy spike. We thought it might be something but it's random in timing and level but firing some kind of thrusters away from the singularity. Figure it might be a technical issue but maybe someone on there doesn't want to get crushed into infinite gravity."

"Thanks, Joker," Jane responded. Garrus looked as if deep in thought. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"The armament suggests a warship. There's clear damage along the hull. This thing has been in a fight. Someone or something targeted those guns but didn't get them all and that's worrying enough for our approach. But what's really bothering me is it almost looks like it tried to get away from the gravity well. Look at it's trajectory, the thrusting, how it's angled. Like it came through the thing... I don't like it..." He trailed off but Jane was following his thoughts. Attempts at communication may get a response that would be less than friendly.

"Joker, try a hail. All available frequencies, data burst, everything we have. Kinetic Barriers at full, weapons hot."

Joker swung around in his seat. "You sure, Commander? We do that and they'll know we're here. I love parties as much as the next disabled pilot but this might be too much fun, even for me."

"Do it. EDI, give me the PA."

"Of course, Commander."

"Attention crew of the Normandy. This is Shepard. We're gonna try a hail. All essential crew, battle stations. Everyone else, buckle in or grab something. Might be taking evasive action. Shepard out."

"That was inspired, Commander. I'd give you a standing ovation but uh..."

"Very funny, Joker," Garrus said dryly.

"I try to keep things light when there's a black hole trying to make everything heavy. Start praying. I just got the Normandy out of the shop."

"Do it, Joker."

The helmsman hesitated for a moment before working on his console. "EDI, send it."

"Package sent, Mr. Moreau."

It was deathly silent. Even the Normandy itself seemed to hold its breath. A slow minute passed. Then another. A third minute passed with no response.

"EDI," Shepard said.

"No change detected. No indication that they have received or returned a transmission. Their weapons remain uncharged with no sign of a barrier. Their power has pulsed again but it is not inconsistent with previously detected spikes."

"Alright, we're going in. Garrus, with me. EDI, Joker, keep to battlestations but do not engage unless you're fired on. Try not to shoot until we're clear but evade if necessary."

"Oh, I can pretty much guarantee that last part. EDI, if you're gonna take my bet, now is the time."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Moreau. I am unable to participate in your bet."

"Fine. But when it turns out I was right, I still get to say I told you so."

"You would say that either way, Mr. Moreau."

Shepard and Garrus turned to head for the armory. They walked in silence, lost in their thoughts. When they arrived, they kept to themselves while they geared up.

"Something worth considering, Shepard. We do have a Krogan in a tank down below."

Garrus put his signature M-97 Viper on his back. It contracted and minimized as he looked at the selection of handguns.

"Are you seriously suggesting I wake up a test tube Krogan?"

Shepard grabbed her recently acquired Geth Shotgun and placed it on the small of her back and heard it click into place.

"Well that last one wasn't so bad. Besides, you turned him from a mercenary into a Battle Master, last I heard."

Shepard saw Garrus reaching for her pistol but plucked the Phalanx before he could and slapped it against her leg.

"Don't touch Mom's stuff."

Garrus grimaced, settling on a Carnifex instead and attaching it to his leg.

"I hate it when you call yourself that. It's... Creepy. And my point about the Krogan is valid."

For good measure, Shepard strapped her trusty N7 Hurricane to her back. It wasn't quite a 'Jessie,' but it had been with her since the beginning. It was her lucky charm.

"Well, your point also included time spent with me. We can't exactly trust a recently awoken Krogan."

Garrus prefered the Hornet as he checked it.

"We don't have to trust it, Shepard. I was suggesting we just send him through the ship first."

"Overruled, Archangel," she said as they finished their prep. She smiled. "Besides, if we send a Krogan in, how is Mommy supposed to have any fun?"

Garrus rolled his eyes. "Let's get on with it then. After you, Mom."

"Oh, ew. Gross. Don't ever call me that."

"You can't be serious."

"It sounds weird when you say it."

They entered the elevator and punched the shuttle bay.

"Just like old times, Garrus."

"Let's hope not."

The elevator opened and there was her team; loaded, armored, and ready for action.

"Alright team. Load up," she said without any ceremony.

Jane paused for a moment. She always did before jumping into the breach. It wasn't fear or hesitation, it was just her ritual. She looked at her team like it was the last time she'd ever see them. It was a habit picked up after Akuze. Less than six months after the thresher maw destroyed everything she held dear and she couldn't remember some of their faces. In a year she had started forgetting names. She now memorized every detail of every person standing before her in this shuttle bay. Kasumi's lips, Garuss' scars, Jack's tattoos, Miranda's form-fitting suit, and Zaeed petting his rifle, she just took them all in as they were.

"Commander," Garrus prodded. She snapped out of her reverie.

"Right... Mount up."

Garrus, Kasumi, Zaeed, Miranda and Shepard loaded into the shuttle. Garrus took the helm.

'Now or never,' the Commander thought.

"Take us out. Nice and easy."

Every minute brought them closer to the hulking purple derelict.

"Reminds me of the Verrikan. Feels like the same kind of suicide mission as well. There were six of us..."

Jane cut him off. "No wait, let me guess. Everyone died except you and you still accomplished the mission."

"Don't be like that, Shepard. For some of us, we have more stories behind than ahead. At some point, they may be all we have."

Shapard looked at the scarred up Merc and saw just a hint of sadness there. She felt a little bad about her snappy response but she hadn't figured out any other way to silence him. Zaeed had always seemed pretty unbreakable but Shepard should know more than most that no one is.

"But yeah, pretty much. Still a great story. I'll tell ya later."

Garrus chuckled. EDI crackled to life in the commander's ear. "Commander, the energy fluctuations from the unknown vessel are becoming more frequent. I detect no radiation or harmful byproducts. However, without being familiar with its technology, the ship may be dangerous if the fluctuations continue to escalate."

"Roger that, EDI. Garrus, try another hail. All available known languages."

Garrus clicked a button. "Attention unknown vessel, this is the Normandy SR-2. We are requesting permission to board. Please respond."

They approached the opening on the underside of the ship and pulled short by 100 meters. Miranda was being uncharacteristically quiet, Zaeed was speaking quietly to his firearm, Garrus and Shepard held their collective breath. There was no response.

"I still don't like this, Shepard."

"I'll take that under advisement. Is that a barrier? I thought it was just open."

Covering what first appeared as an open hangar was a shimmering, sickly green cover. It rippled and reflected the ambient light.

Garrus turned, Jane nodded. "Move up. EDI, do we have any scans on this?"

"No, Commander. Whatever that energy is does not produce a signature I can detect but I suggest using caution."

Jane spoke up. "Noted. Garrus, touch it."

Every crew member slowly turned to look at her.

"Are we so certain that's a good idea, Commander," Miranda queried.

"Seems as good an idea as any. I don't see a problem," Zaeed said.

Miranda cast a sidelong glance at Zaeed who was busy picking his teeth before looking at Jane once again. "That's exactly what I mean," she said.

"You lost me," Shepard responded.

"I believe her point was that if Zaeed thinks it's a good idea, it's probably not a good idea."

"Thanks, Garrus."

"Anytime."

Zaeed finally looked up. "Wait, what's going on?"

Miranda sighed dramatically. Garrus suppress a laugh.

"What's going on is Garrus is going to SLOWLY approach that barrier and bump it. See if it reacts with our barrier."

Silence ensued.

"Look, we don't have any weapons on this thing so unless someone wants to open the door and throw a rock, this is what we got."

"On it. Everyone, hold on to something. Normandy, this is Kodiak. We're approaching the derelict."

The shuttle approached the barrier, slowly and controlled. Garrus inched it until the kinetic barrier brushed the rippling surface. No change, no interaction.

"Huh," Garrus commented. "And now?"

"Push it a little further."

The shuttle lurched until the front thrusters were just poking through. When nothing happened, Garrus pushed all the way in. The small ship lurched with the gravity suddenly cast upon it but Garrus threw the thruster down and held it steady.

"Must be some kind of vacuum shield. There's gravity here. Interesting technology," Miranda said.

Garrus set the craft down, setting it to stand by. The lights were dim and flickering in their landing zone. Garrus groaned.

"Well, at least it's not dark and scary in here," he said.

"Alright, team. Heads up, move out and clear the landing zone. I want constant communication. Call out everything you see."

They all voiced their affirmation as the door slid open. Shepard stepped out first, flashlight poking into the dim surroundings with her shotgun. Garrus was next doing the same thing with his SMG taking Shepard's left. Zaeed third on Shepard's right, Kasumi sauntered out as if there wasn't a care in the world, and finally Miranda.

"Garrus?"

"Looks clear on my end."

"Zaeed?"

"Got something worth taking a closer look at but no hostiles."

"Miranda?"

"It looks like there was a firefight on my side. Scorch marks, warped sections of the interior. No contacts."

"Kasumi?"

"Nothing of note but... This doesn't feel right. Feels like we're being watched."

The Turian sighed. "Of course you had to say it."

Shepard looked around. The hangar was large, with tall ceilings visible even in the low light. Shepard cast a glance in all directions. She saw what Zaeed was talking about. There was a craft of some kind that looked oddly angled. After confirming no movement, she hit her communicator.

"Alright, everyone on me. Normandy, this is Shepard. We've landed. No welcome party, looks like it's low power. Everything is pretty dim in here. No contact. Copy?"

Joker responded "Solid copy, Commander. Bring me back a T-shirt."

Shepard motioned for Zaeed to move toward whatever they had seen. As they approached, it slowly began to take shape.

"That doesn't look like it quite fits in with the rest of the decor. Weren't we supposed to be the first ones here," Zaeed asked.

Garrus cast his light on it, outlining the shape and peering at a dark grey or perhaps green craft. It looked like a brick with engines, as far as Shepard could tell. They approached from the rear, or so she assumed.

"I believe so. Those look like thrusters, and this is definitely a heavily armored hull. See inside there? Definitely a landing craft but never seen anything like it. Looks like it crashed in here. See the scoring along that back engine?"

"Commander," Miranda added. "There's breathable atmosphere in here."

"Bullshit. This room is wide open to space," Zaeed hissed.

"Could be the barrier we passed through... Which I mentioned already if you could be bothered to follow a conversation," the operative retorted.

"Love, I'd follow you anywhere in that catsuit," he said with a smile. Miranda sighed and tried to ignore the comment.

"Lock it up, team. Let's move. Bridge should be this way… I think. Zaeed, you have point. Kasumi, do your scouting thing around here. Grab anything you can find. Let us know if anything moves."

"Sure thing. But stay alert... I don't think we're alone here."

"Just do it."

The thief nodded and promptly disappeared, though whether she cloaked or simply made ample use of the low light and shadows wasn't Immediately clear. They moved back from the downed craft and moved forward into the vessel with Zaeed up front. They moved slowly, covering all sides as they progressed. The room they were in was huge. There were several alien crafts inside. Small fighters had been Garrus' guess. They were scattered and disorganized.

"Guns and fighters. Supports the warship theory. Would this be perhaps a small carrier, then" Miranda piped up.

"Doubtful. There's space in here for crafts, sure. But not enough to classify as a carrier. I'd probably place this as a cruiser," Garrus said.

"Whatever it is," Zaeed added. "Pretty obvious from the damage that this thing saw some action. Even on the inside. See the damage along the floor and walls? I'd be willing to bet it was boarded by that crashed ship back there."

As he finished his thought he pulled up short and shined his flashlight into the walls. They all saw the damage there.

Kasumi spoke up on the comm, "Commander, I've got dead. Small, oddly shaped. Looks like standard weapons damage but they've got guns I've never seen. Looks maybe energy based. I've never seen this kind of lifeform before though. They've got some kind of breathing apparatus on their backs. Ugly little things."

"Thanks, Kasumi. Keep scouting. You see anything worth picking up, grab it. But be careful."

"Oh, I'm way ahead of you there."

They moved up the ramp. There was a door directly ahead and a raised section leading to either side before the door that was overlooking the hangar. When Zaeed got to the top, he flashed his light down at his feet and froze. His weapon came up as he cleared to the right and left of his immediate area. Even in the dim light, Shepard saw his posture take a defensive turn.

"I got bodies." He swung his light right then left. "Both sides."

They picked up the pace a little to join him. Garrus pulled up first. His light shone over the disfigured monster that lay unmoving in a pool of dark purple blood.

"What the hell..." Miranda chimed in.

Zaeed whistled. "That's not any species I've ever seen. Garrus, how big you figure this thing is?"

"Standing up? I'd say at least eight feet but probably more. Look at the jaw. Looks like four, independently articulated mandibles."

"I'm more concerned with what happened to it," Shepard said.

"First contact," Garrus mumbled under his breath.

As Shepard looked it over, she could see it's blue armor was clearly advanced and the thing itself looked tough as nails. Forward facing eyes, large, strong looking, and unguligrade leg joints ending in what appeared to be hoofs. This was a predator, if evolution had taught her anything. Whatever had gotten to it had shredded through that armor and into gray flesh. It wasn't the kind of impact ballistic type damage you'd see from mass accelerator weapons though. There was impact and what appeared to be a splash outward of burns.

"I'm more concerned with what this means for us," Miranda said. She cast her light to the other bodies. "Looks like more than one species. I see some... Pieces that look like they were a part of something different." Looking down at the big one, she pointed out an oddity not far from it's hand. "Is that a weapon?"

Zaeed gave a swift kick to the aliens midsection to check its reaction with his rifle pointing directly at it's head in case it moved. Everyone tensed and held their breath but no movement came from the beast. He bent down slowly with his weapon still aimed and gingerly picked up the device. He glanced over it briefly, turning it in his hand, before shrugging and passing it back to Shepard. It was a weapon alright but not like anything Shepard had ever seen. She passed it to Miranda.

"That's definitely worth investigating," Miranda said as she looked it over before slapping it on her back. "It's magnetic, at least."

"I'm sure Kasumi has a dozen by now," Zaeed mused.

"Along with anything else shiny," Garrus added.

"Speak of the devil," a disembodied voice said. Zaeed yelped.

"Goddammit, little girl. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on a deadly mercenary?"

"I'm fairly certain I still haven't," Kasumi said earning a glare for the Merc and stifled laughs from the others. The moment was short lived as Shepard approached the door. Something close to a musical note sounded and it slid open halfway before stopping. Shepard sighed then began to work her way through the opening. She raised her weapon, light peering into the darkness of the dimly lit hallway.

"Clear," she said.

One by one, her remaining team squeezed through the door and took position to cover the hallway.

"Alright," Garrus said. "Who's going first?"

Zaeed's machismo got the better of him as he stepped forward and slowly crept down the hall. He kept to the right side and allowed Shepard a field of fire covering the left side of the hallway.

"I see more bodies, Zaeed."

"I see 'em too, Commander."

Shepard and the mercenary crept to the downed aliens and took a closer look. There were two of them. Blood stained the hallway and floor around them. Kasumi sidled up and poked her head between them for a moment.

"I really hope the race that did this isn't hanging around still," Shepard said.

"They look like rabid dogs," Kasumi observed.

Garrus had now worked his way up. Zaeed stepped over their bodies and pointed Jessie down the hallway to cover their front.

"They look like raptors or pterodactyls," Kasumi added.

They had elongated mouths coated by rows of sharp teeth. The creatures were maybe over six feet stretched out, scaly-skinned, and with spiky protrusions coming from their spine.

"Looks like puncture wounds in this one," Garrus said. "See the two holes in it's chest? Doesn't look like weapons fire. It's too clean. And cauterized?"

"Agreed," Shepard added. "But the burns maybe mean an energy based weapon."

Kasumi was busy on the creature to the right. "Same weapon. Took the head clean off of this one."

"Whatever killed these things was strong," Miranda added from behind.

Shepard and Garrus shared a look and turned. Miranda was looking up. They followed her gaze and saw two punctures in the ceiling with two tell-tale blackened scorch rings, the same distance apart and shape matching the holes in the creature below.

"Jesus," Shepard said. "It pinned this thing to the cieling?"

She looked down to the decapitated alien next to the other one. The dent in the wall roughly matching the size of the creature suggested it was pinned there before being relieved of its head. She jumped a little when the radio crackled on in her ear.

"Any updates Commander? Ghosts, maybe? Or alien eggs? Never get close to alien eggs."

"We have dead aboard, Joker. I'm sure Mordin would love a chance to examine some of them. We'll try to bring some samples back. I want to know how this thing runs, too. We haven't gone aft to check the engineering section. No sign of life just yet. There was a fight here and there may still be hostiles. I'll be in touch. Shepard out."

"Solid copy, Commander. But you should know that ship is on the edge of the gravity well and slowly falling in. you've got maybe 40 minutes before proximity becomes an issue. Just... Be careful."

"Zaeed, let's push forward. I want to see the bridge."

They moved forward. Next thing up the hall was a trio of the larger aliens. They were equally brutalized and mangled. More scorch marks seared through their flesh, armor, and the walls surrounding them.

"Close quarters," Garrus said. "Missing head on the middle one. The other two cut clean in half. Probably the same weapon."

"Goddamn... Whatever did this must be strong as a Krogan. These things got manhandled."

Shepard peered at the trio of bodies. This had to be the work of a team. Some kind of special forces, given the size of the landing craft they had seen in the hangar. They had executed every alien from here to the bridge with a brutal efficiency.

"Let's keep moving. Kasumi, grab anything."

No one said anything as they moved forward and up. It was trial and error until they approached the bridge but they found scattered bodies of the same alien types they had already seen. It was dark and creepy wandering the dim, purple hallways. It took maybe 20 minutes but they finally found a large set of doors at the top of a large ramp.

"That has to be it, Shepard."

Jane had to agree with Miranda, which didn't happen often. They'd gotten fairly comfortable so far on this mission. The Commander oculd almost feel her team relaxing a hair too much. Jane didn't like it. There was something strange about the whole thing. Even beyond an alien derelict full of dead in front of a black hole.

"And it all leads here," Shepard said out loud as she looked at the door. "Kasumi, I need you to hold the hallway and watch our rear."

"I'm on it. It might take me a minute to reach you. I've been busy stacking useful things in the Kodiak. No bodies, though. Sorry."

"Understood. Everyone else, stack up on me. Buttonhook. Garrus you take the hook, I've got the cross. Everyone watch the fatal frontal."

They nodded and stacked up on the left side of the hall. Shepard, then Garrus, Zaeed, and Miranda.

"I saw some shiny things down here but I'm close enough to watch your backs. Don't have any fun without me!"

Shepard's eyes were on the door. Garrus tapped Shepard's shoulder, giving the signal for ready. She took a deep breath, held, then exhaled.

"Flashbang out," She said quietly into her microphone and moved forward, activating the door. It opened and she threw the flashbang in and waited. The electronic whine followed by a quick bang and a brilliant white light flashed, momentarily illuminating the bridge and hallway. Shepard charged forward and swung her weapon up, then right, crossing the doorway and covering the right corner. Garrus was immediately on her heels as he looked forward first then quickly swung left to cover the other corner of the room. Zaeed and Miranda crossed the threshold of the door aiming for the far corners.

The entire movement halted immediately as they flashed their lights around.

"Goddamn..." Zaeed whispered.

"What... happened here..." Miranda breathed.

Even Garrus, usually cool and collected chimed in. "Fuck me..."

Shepard was at a loss for words but her blood ran cold.

They shined their lights toward every inch of what used to be a bridge but were met only with body parts, twisted metal, armor fragments, scorch marks, and craters. The walls were coated in holes and burn marks, warped in places, destroyed in others. Bodies lay scattered and in separate pieces with several different shades of blood staining the deck. The level of destruction in this room was nothing short of a massacre. There was evidence of high explosives used.

"Looks like a hit squad of some kind," Zaeed offered. "Special ops, maybe. Whatever came aboard, they meant business."

"Scan around, team. See if you can find me a live one."

Despite the level of brutality in this room, her team got to work. Zaeed, however, made a beeline toward what looked like the only active tech in the room. "Shepard. Live panel here. No idea what the hell any of this means or does... Hello, pretty," he said.

Shepard turned to look. There, in the center of the panel was a bright orange card. It glistened and pulsed. Orange, metallic filaments seemed to extend from it into the panel. Jane wondered how it had accomplished this since the display appeared to be entirely holographic.

"None alive, Commander," Miranda said.

"Same here," Garrus agreed.

"Alright. Start grabbing anything you can. We'll load up and head back. Miranda, see if you can figure out that panel. Find me data or whatever you can."

"Of course, Shepard."

Jane sighed as she looked around. She showed no signs but she was spooked. The carnage in this room was incredible.

"And stay alert. Still no evidence we're alone here."

Kasumi had spent too much time alone now. At first, it was exciting. She had strayed a bit further behind than she was sure Shepard would have liked but how often does a new ship with new trinkets just fall into one's lap? Not often enough to pass up poking around. She'd grabbed some weapons, a chunk of armor here, a scrap of something there. She'd even found something like an armory and started moving stuff. Warships often meant family heirlooms, pictures of family, jewelry, data worth snagging, and any other number of unique or profitable items. However, the more she explored, the clearer it became that whatever species, or multiples therein, used this ship did not hold any such ideas of keepsakes. It was just more armor, more guns, and the alien tech made it impossible to pull any sensitive information out. Whoever had lived on this ship seemed focused on only one thing and it wasn't sentiment; it was war.

She was now pacing, practicing with the patience and expertise only the master thief was capable of in perfecting the art of moving silently. She sighed growing bored of even that. She wondered what Jacob was doing. Did he ever think about her? She felt giddy at the idea of him thinking about her at all. He had only ever ignored her but that only further incited her interests. Well that settled it then, as far as she could see. There was only one course of action. When they returned to the Normandy, she'd have to steal something of his. What she stole didn't matter so much. Preferably something attached to his hips, maybe a back pocket. She smiled deviously at the idea of getting caught with her hand in his pants.

She was mid thought when she felt rather than heard a movement. She was on the landing above a ramp. The landing wound its way to another ramp that led to the bridge. It was the ramp below her that drew her senses. Where there should have been a silence that echoed in on itself, there was now a muffled silence. Had it been anyone else, she was sure it would have been missed but she knew the differences in silence. As time passed, she was now only half sure that she'd heard anything at all when she heard the whisper. But it wasn't voices. It was the whisper of a surreptitious movement. She made her way to the edge of the purple walls on the other side of the ramp and listened further.

She froze upon hearing a dull thunk on the metallic floor. Instinct took over as she cloaked and made her way into an indentation along the wall and crouched. Another dull sound of shifting feet met her ears and she slowed her breath and calmed her heart. She felt the comfort of the darkness around her but her eyes were sharp as knives trying to pierce the darkness. Every hair stood on end as she detected a new scent in the air. She drew her weapon and held it ready. The noise she heard could only be a living thing. She saw something like a shimmer in the darkness. A refraction of light that almost imperceptibly altered the vision. She heard a quiet exhale and quickly gauged where it came from. It was directly in front of her and, judging roughly where the floor was to where she had heard it, this thing had to be at least eight and a half feet tall.

She waited but there was nothing. No breathing, no movement, no shimmer. Everything was perfectly still. The silence haunted the thief. She was the best there was in the known worlds and whatever was in here with her gave no further indication of its location. She waited with infinite patience and knew better than to move. She needed to tell Shepard but she dared not speak and give away her presence.

After several more minutes, a tell-tale creak of metal under the stress of weight told her the creature was halfway up the ramp to Shepard's location. She'd have to risk blowing her cover now. She couldn't take the risk. She hit her communicator and whispered. Anything louder might draw unwanted attention and she didn't know if there was more than one.

"See that, Shepard? Goddamn plasma. Just like the Geth! That's what caused the burns on this armor. I'm telling ya!"

Garrus was ignoring the conversation. Well, he supposed it wouldn't be considered a conversation if only Zaeed was talking. But then that was usually how conversons with Zaeed went. He was examining the weapons that didn't look like they were part of the arsenal they had seen so far. Where the others had all been some shade of purple, green, and blue, these others were steely and gray. They lacked any decoration but they looked effective in their design; purpose built, if extremely primitive. He guessed they must belong to whatever team had boarded and killed everything else.

Miranda had busied herself with the terminal. She had made mention of the card or disk that had been jammed into it. She was busy trying to shake it loose but hadn't had any luck so far. Garrus wondered if maybe that card was part of the boarding party as well.

Garrus looked up as he heard static in his ear. He could hear syllables, but the words themselves were quiet. He couldn't make them out. Especially with the mercenary talking.

"Zaeed," he said, trying to get him to quiet down for a second.

"That's why this whole bridge looks like shit too. I ever tell you about the time I got hit with a Geth shotgun? Wasn't any Geth that shot it either. Where she got the goddamn thing, I have no idea."

"Wait, she?" Jane responded, suddenly interested.

"Shepard, I think Kasumi's calling you."

Garrus went unheard.

"Oh, ho! Shepard, I've known quite a few women. Some of them might even give you a run for your money. But THIS one..."

Garrus caught the word "incoming" through his earpiece.

"SHEPARD! EARPIECE!" The Turian yelled.

Jane shook herself. Finally a story she might be interested in and this happens. She listened intently into her helmet.

"Shepard, please respond!" It was Kasumi and she was whispering but clearly agitated. Shepard knew something was wrong. She could hear the desperation in her whisper.

"Kasumi, Shepard here."

"Uh... Commander," it was Miranda.

The door to the bridge hummed and slid open but in the dim light, no one saw anything.

"Kasumi, are you messing with us? Is that you in the door?"

The door hummed shut once again.

"Alright, little thief," Zaeed said. "Trying to pull one over on ol' Zaeed, huh?" He was looking furtively around trying to spot what he assumed was their teammate.

Everyone seemed to relax a bit at Shepard's suggestion. Kasumi playing games was nothing new. But their relief was short lived. They all heard Kasumi's transmission in their earpieces.

"It's cloaked. And it's big. It's heading right for you."

Everyone raised their weapons, alert.

"Miranda, Zaeed, cover the rear," Shepard barked quietly. Miranda and Zaeed swiveled while she and Garrus had weapons pointed toward the door. Everyone was looking everywhere.

"Check your fire, make sure your target isn't a friendly."

Garrus had one hand on his visor, cycling through his optic options and scanning the room. If one were looking into the room from the door, Garrus was on the far left facing the door. Zaeed was next, facing away from the door and toward the front of the bridge. Then Miranda, also covering where Zaeed was pointed. Shepard was on the far right, covering everything in front of the door.

Deathly silence filled the room. No one dared say anything for fear of missing a sound, missing a movement, not catching a crucial cue of an enemy. Shepard saw the shimmer at the same time Garrus did but Garrus called it out first.

"ZAEED! MOVE!" Had barely escaped his mouth before all hell broke loose. Shepard saw it in slow motion but her body was too slow. The noise dialed down to a dull din in her ears. A jet of blue light appeared from thin air with a crackling hiss and was thrust at Zaeed's back. To his credit, Zaeed didn't make the mistake of turning. Instead he lunged to the side to dodge and allow others to fire on the threat he couldn't see but the strike connected. This thing was lightening fast. Shepard, Garrus, and Miranda saw the weapon punch through the mercenary's back, bypassing the kinetic barrier and shearing through his armor, reappearing out through his stomach. It wasn't a direct hit but one of the prongs of the unknown energy weapon had cut into him to the left of his spine just above the kidney but below the ribs. As Zaeed lunged right, the blade continued forward and Zaeed was sent spinning through the air. From the shimmering cloak, a true monster emerged. Blood red armor coated it's well over 8 foot frame. And it roared a blood-curdling scream. In it's right hand was the blade, appearing as if made from pure energy. In it's left was one of the weapon types they had picked up before. They could see it now but it's speed was incredible. It turned on Miranda just as Garrus and Jane opened fire. It stepped to it's left, putting Miranda in Jane's line of fire. Miranda had a split second to put up a biotic barrier before it's massive hoof raised and rocketed her off of her feet, shattering the barrier, crunching into her armor, and sending her into Shepard. They both hit the far wall.

Shepard felt her armor crack with the impact. Garrus was yelling Turian curse words as his SMG went through a full heatsink but whatever this monsters was, they had shielding of their own. Shepard raised herself painfully to her feet and opened fire on the creatures back. It whipped it's left arm around and fired blindly at her. It was a plasma based weapon and she felt the heat lick at her through her kinetic Barriers as she dove out of the way, still laying down accurate fire on the behemoth, but was struck in the leg twice. Once in the thigh, and once in the shin. Her ablative ceramic plates absorbed much of the heat, but it still seared through and cooked her flesh where it hit. She rolled and brought her weapon back up, ignoring the white hot pain, unloading round after round of mass accelerated metal at beyond mach speeds into the shielding. She saw Miranda was still a crumpled heap, head lolling from side to side.

The monster was focused on Garrus, baring it's massive blade. Garrus could not match the speed of the creature but his experience worked in his favor. Reading the swing of the blade, Garrus ducked and rolled under it. His maneuver cleared the line of fire for Shepard who took full advantage. It then dropped the rifle from it's left hand and the Turian just couldn't react in time. It grabbed him by the throat and released another roar before smashing him against the wall. Garrus' SMG fell from nerveless fingers. His body left a dent there and the alien drew back to smash him again. Jane had shredded its shields down to nothing but it's armor was proving effective against her fire. Garrus whipped out his omniblade and swung, connecting with the monster's neck. He buried it to the hilt and broke it off, the monster staggering a moment.

Garrus palmed his pistol and started unloading point blank, pressing the barrel into a gap in the creatures armor into its torso. It cried out in pain and rage, releasing it's hold. As the creature dropped him, he dodged out of the way just as Shepard drew her trump card. With a biotic whirlwind, she threw herself in full charge at the creature. She connected and the thing staggered back, letting out another yell of pain but incredibly stayed on its feet, even as it reeled and slid back. Shepard brought her shotgun to it's face but it grabbed it by the barrel and yanked. A round went off next to its head and Shepard let go of the weapon just in time as the energy blade tore it in half. Garrus used an anti-material sniper blast point blank earning another pained howl from the towering monster who staggered. It was bleeding now as it turned on the cornered Turian. He raised his rifle as if it were a shield and another kick bent the weapon before connecting on Garrus' upper chest and the Turian went airborne. His head hit the wall first and he slumped. Clearly dazed, he attempted to raise his pistol again but the creature slapped it out of the Turian's hand as it laughed. The thing was having fun, apparently.

Three of her team down. It was up to Shepard now who had already opened fire with the Hurricane SMG; her lucky charm. This leviathan rounded on her and growled. She saw it's muscles bulge and it lunged. She tried to leap away but her damaged leg gave out under her and she started to fall. It lunged at her with its sword, ready to pierce her. She caught the blade with biotics as she was falling, putting every ounce of power she had at the blade as it still crawled forward, slow inch after slow inch. She poured every ounce of power she had to give into pushing back as the creature pushed the blade forward. The strength of this thing was immense but it struggled against the mass effect field. But still drew closer and closer to her throat. Shepard felt the heat of it begin to build. She had just raised her pistol when the monster's head snapped forward violently and jerked back again. It seemed in shock for a brief moment. Forgetting about the Commander, it whirled. There, sticking out of the left side of its head was a long, black knife. Dazed, Shepard rolled and looked behind the hostile. She almost couldn't believe what she saw.

Torn up, bloody, and encased in heavily scarred gray armor stood another alien. It was maybe 7 feet tall, give or take. That armor looked like it weighed a ton and she could see the deep scoring and damage across it. The armored giant stood straight as an arrow and stared the alien down. The alien monster roared and lunged with incredible speed, it's whole body a blur as it swung fast and hard at the head of the other alien. Shepard was sure her rescue would be short-lived. She had seen the monster's power flatten her team but her eyes went wide as the armored alien caught the wrist of the hand with the energy blade mid-swing. It then stepped in and brought a palm directly into the roaring mandibles of the monster. She heard a sickening crunch and the alien staggered back. Still holding it's wrist, the steel clad warrior twisted and side stepped bringing the arm behind the creature into a lock. It kicked one of the legs out from the behemoth and the monster dropped as the smaller alien wrenched the larger one's arm up violently. Another wet snap echoed through the bridge and the monster howled. The smaller creature stomped it's metal leg down on the leg of the alien ensuring it wouldn't rise. It disarmed the energy blade, brought it over it's head, then thrust down at the base of the aliens neck and sank it all the way through it's torso. The howl died into a whimper then a gurgle. The armored intruder snaked it's right arm around the front of the monster's head, grabbed the knife stuck in it's left side and yanked, twisting the head of the beast with a series of pops. The gurgle died and the victor stomped its boot on the alien's back, crushing to the ground, and wrenched the knife out. It wiped the blade on it's armor and returned it to the sheath on it's shoulder before turning to Shepard. She raised her weapon, hand steady, and aimed it at this newcomer's face.

"That might not be the only one. And I'm your best chance to make it out of here," it said in a deep, gravelly voice.

It moved forward and stuck it's hand out. Shepard took it, letting it pull her to her feet. She winced when she put weight on her right leg and shifted weight to her left.

"Can you walk?"

Jane shook her head as if she'd just imagined the voice, surprised she could understand him. As she stood face to chest with it, she realized how much bigger this thing was than her.

"What," she said dumbly. Granted, she wasn't so familiar with the tech of omnitools that she knew whether the translation function was universal or if it just picked up known languages.

"Can you walk," it repeated.

"I think so."

"Good. Tend your wounded."

It's face turned ever so slightly, as if hearing a sound no one else could. In a flash of motion it bent, picked up a weapon and aimed it directly at an empty wall. Jane hadn't even seen the full movement but for a blur. The weapon glowed menacingly green as some sort of charge built up. Jane was confused at first until the alien spoke.

"I've had a long day," it said.

From nothing, Kasumi suddenly appeared directly in front of his weapon, hands up, eyes revealed wide in surprise in the green glow.

"Easy, big guy. I'm with her."

"She's with me," Shepard confirmed

He lowered his weapon and nodded at the thief. Kasumi rushed over to Jane and mouthed 'what the fuck' silently as their new "friend" made it's way over to Zaeed

"Your friend is alive," it said simply before holding a canister over his inert body and spraying some kind of foam over the mercs wound. "Plasma cauterizes. Doesn't look like it hit anything vital. He'll be fine if you get him medical attention."

"Kasumi, go check Miranda. I've got Garrus."

"Normandy, this is Kasumi" she said as she touched her communicator. "I'm here with Shepard. We have wounded. Zaeed's in bad shape."

"Copy, Kasumi. We'll have the med bay prepped. What happened!?"

"First contact, Joker. First contact. Never seen aliens like this before. Everyone is alive but we'll be heading to you ASAP."

"Jesus," Joker responded. "Well hurry up either way. That ship is heading back into that black hole. You guys have maybe 15 minutes."

"We'll be outta here in no time. Kasumi out."

Shepard had roused Garrus from his slumped position. He seemed alright, if dazed. Jane helped him to his feet. When he steadied, he leaned against the wall and waved the Commander off. She made her way to the mercenary instead.

"Zaeed?" Shepard said trying to get a response.

"Zaeed," the newcomer repeated as if trying out the name. The behemoth walked to the flickering console and started pressing buttons. Jane shook her head and grunted as she stirred.

"How far did I make it," it asked.

"From where?" Shepard countered as she knelt over Zaeed. His wound was covered with whatever the armored alien had sprayed on him. Interesting tech. Doubtful it was as effective as omnigel. She felt her teammates pulse. It was thready but persistent. He was bleeding only slightly. The wound had been in his upper left abdomen and when the merc had started spinning, it had torn it's way through, separating a small part of his top half from his bottom half in a wide gash.

"Reach. Slip drive failed. Where am I?"

Jane ignored his question, getting annoyed at how calm this thing was. "Hey! You. What the hell was that thing?"

"Covenant," it said simply.

"What the hell is that!?"

She had painfully made her way over to his side and was staring him down, or up, depending on your point of view. It turned to her. Even in the low light, she could see her own helmet reflected back at her in his cracked visor.

"You don't know?" it asked.

She blinked and even Kasumi stopped momentarily as she began to rouse Miranda. The Cerberus officer stirred and raised herself to a sitting position and leaned against the wall. She shook her head lightly and clutched her ribs with her eyes closed.

"What the hell..." She opened her eyes and they fell on the armored giant. "What the hell?"

"Miranda looks okay, Shepard," Kasumi said and turned to move for Garrus. Jane nodded and turned her attention back to the giant.

"Let's pretend I've never seen these things before. What are they," Shepard asked gesturing at the fresh corpse of the monster on the floor. But the giant just stared, looking from her, to Miranda, to Kasumi. Blank helmets met his gaze.

"Where are you from? An outer colony?"

Miranda was now listening intently.

"And just who are you then," the busty Cerberus agent queried. "An enemy of theirs, no doubt. Did you say slip drive?"

Jane pressed on. "Tell me about them."

"You've really never..." The giant seemed genuinely surprised. "First contact on harvest," he tried. "Green Hills. Second Base..."

Jane shook her head. The giant seemed to grow agitated. "Battle of Alpha Corvi II?"

Miranda had worked herself to a standing position but still held her ribs, her breathing shallow.

"We're from a very outer colony," she tried. "We lost communication a while ago but lacked the resources to re-establish any connection. When no one came, we just continued on. What did we miss exactly?"

Jane, seeing what she was up to, shot her a look and Miranda shrugged. But the giant seemed to calm a little at her explanation. Jane let the lie go for now. The giant's head lowered a fraction of an inch.

"Everything," it said simply.

Jane had no idea what the big creature was talking about but now wasn't the time. Whatever was going on, she'd need more details but later. Even Miranda looked concerned.

"I think we can all ask questions later," Shepard said. "Right now, we grab what we can and get out of here," she ordered. She met it's gaze again. "I suppose I should thank you. What's your name?"

Answering tersely, "Six."

Jane raised an eyebrow, thinking it must be an error in translation or perhaps it's name just sounded like a number. "Okay, Six. Thank you. I'm Commander Shepard of the Normandy SR-2. That's Miranda over there, and Kasumi in the corner."

Garrus finally shifted and groaned. "Shepard," he said through a grunt. The armored newcomer's head snapped over to Garrus as the Turian spoke. It whipped back to Shepard.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead. How ya feeling?"

"Feels just like those old times I've missed so much. Sure would have been nice to have a Krogan, don't you think?" he grumbled.

"Stow it for the debriefing."

The steel clad alien had turned toward Garrus as if really seeing him for the first time. She noticed his rigid stance and could see the muscles tense even under that shredded armor. It had a weapon in it's hand but didn't raise it, though she watched the fingers tighten around it. Instead it looked down at her.

"You can understand that thing?" it asked.

"That 'thing' is Garrus. He's a Turian. You can't understand him? So, you can understand me just fine but not him. Huh." She let the thought linger but dismissed it for now. "Well, I suppose it would be polite to ask if you needed a ride. Where's the rest of your team?"

It was a fraction of a second, easily missed. Jane watched the creature hesitate. It's shoulders slumped forward and it's head hung lower. It was only a moment but Jane caught it. She knew what answer was coming.

"I'm on my own."

Garrus and Kasumi exchanged a look and Miranda was paying rapt attention. But Jane was struck. Whatever this thing was, it had been in the blender for sure. It had lost people. Some body language really was universal, it seemed.

"They left you here?" Kasumi asked. She sounded disbelieving.

"No. It's just me."

Shepard and Miranda both raised an eyebrow at the implications of this thing being alone on this ship with these kinds of aliens. Not a chance one alien, no matter how tough, could have been responsible for the wreckage they had seen.

"Where are you from, exactly? And how did you get here?"

"Reach," he answered.

Shepard was about to inquire further but was interrupted by Joker on her comms.

"Commander, Joker here. Tell me you guys are on your way. That ship isn't going to last much longer."

"Roger that. We're underway in five," she responded. "Alright, everyone grab their stuff and get back to the Kodiak. On the double."

Garrus was looking over his now defunct sniper rifle which he decided not to leave behind. Miranda shuffled for the door, wincing in pain. Kasumi leaned against the wall and Garrus stayed close as well, waiting on their Commander. She made her way over to Zaeed and stooped to pick him up.

"How about you, Six?"

The laconic warrior was staring out of the viewport into space, still standing at the panel. He pulled the golden chip that Miranda had been probing earlier. She watched it's orange filaments retreat from the panel and recess back into the chip. More interesting tech, she thought. He turned around to face her but stumbled a bit on one of his legs.

"We have a med bay on the Normandy. We should get you looked at, at least," she offered.

He considered her offer but paused.

"Or you can stay here, and get sucked into a black hole," she added.

"Can you take me to the nearest UNSC outpost?"

"I'll take you anywhere you want as long as you can point out where the hell that is."

He slipped the orange card into a pouch and nodded. He stopped and quickly slapped every weapon he could find onto his armor before walking toward the door. Shepard had Zaeed over her shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"We should go," Six said.

Six exited through the double doors with his weapon aimed high, Kasumi and Garrus followed. Shepard looked around one last time at the state of the bridge and it's former crew. Explosion damage, plasma scoring, what looked like projectile holes... She wondered if Six had really done all of this and what else he was hiding.

'Oh,' she thought. 'I'll find out.'

They jogged back to the Kodiak at a good pace. Six, to his credit, was clearly familiar with tactics. He swept and cleared every corner and turn with the reflexive efficiency of a veteran soldier. They hit the hanger inside of the five minute window and approached the Kodiak.

"Garrus, fire it up," Jane said. The Turian walked into the shuttle and sat, flipping switches and spooling up the engines and eezo core. Jane stood outside of the craft as she ushered Kasumi in.

"Come on, Six," she said, raising her voice over the sound of the engines. But he stood still. She followed his stare until her eyes landed on the crashed craft they had found when they arrived.

"Yours, I take it? Is your eezo core intact?"

He stared blankly at her.

"Okay, let's try simple. Can you fly that thing?"

He nodded.

"Okay, then follow us," she yelled before disappearing into the shuttle. The door slid shut behind her. Garrus pushed off and slowly backed out of the derelict ships hangar.

"Can't say I'll miss that place," Kasumi said.

"Same here," Garrus agreed. "We picked up another stray after all, eh Shepard?"

Jane threw him a dirty look.

"Yes, we did. But you were one of my strays once. Don't forget that. Besides, this is first contact with a new species. And I don't know much but based on how he handled that thing on the bridge, maybe we can use him. At least until we figure out what the hell this UNSC race is. We'll probably end up only giving him a ride anyway. Wouldn't be such a bad idea to show some hospitality if the rest of his kind are like him. Get on their good side."

Kasumi turned in the copilot's seat. "First contact? I doubt it. But... We don't know the full story here either, Shepard. We find one survivor on a derelict warship. A survivor who is probably dangerous with unknown intentions. I know you have a soft spot for fighters but we don't know anything about this guy. At least everyone else had dossiers before you picked them up. We only have his side of the story here."

"And how do you know about the dossiers exactly?"

The thief turned back around and went silent.

Shepard frowned. Kasumi had a point. They'd only have half of the story. Maybe Garrus had a point about the upside of having a Krogan on board. The alien with the sword... She had taken down Krogans, a thresher maw, assembled the deadliest team in the known universe, and even come back from death. And in less than 30 seconds, an alien with crimson armor had torn her team apart. Granted, it had been mostly surprise and close quarters were involved. She was confident if they met anymore, they'd handle the fight just fine. But in the same amount of time her team went down, Six had eliminated the alien. And in brutal fashion. Still, he hadn't shown any hostility toward her. Maybe a little xenophobia with Garrus but he hadn't exhibited any aggression to him either.

"At ease, Kasumi. We've got the most competent crew in the universe. We'll keep an eye on Six while we give him a ride. He did kinda save my life, you know. Our lives."

They watched as Six's strange craft took off unsteadily. One of it's rear thrusters billowed black smoke, clearly damaged. The other three pushed hard and it was airborne, if only just. It scraped the floor as it slowly left the hangar, finally righting itself as it entered the vacuum of space.

"Take us home," Jane said. "Normandy, this is Shepard. We're enroute and... bringing a guest."

"Great," Joker said. "Another stray. Thanks, Commander. Jack was the last person I wanted to lose a bet to."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes

I wrote most of this entire story on a fluke just for fun. Never imagined anyone would be reading it, let alone enjoy it. So thank you to everyone who is digging the story so far! Just a quick note, I always appreciate feedback. And I also take suggestions, though I may not publicly admit who has inspired me with their comments. Truth is, the story has already evolved based on your feedback.

Keep this in mind though; a lot of this was written separately. Most of what I have been doing involves pushing two pieces of the story together and writing in the middle. This reduces a LOT of time as far as how quickly chapters are coming out but it also means that, at a certain point, chapters will start to slow as I'm writing everything from scratch at that point. But I'm also being as thorough as my sanity and patience allows. I wanted to throw references and facts in there that the casual reader might not even notice. Such as the title of this chapter, the layout of the ships, dialogue, etc.

Also, sorry for the really, almost painfully slow, introductory period you're all in right now. It will pick up within the next few chapters and I intend to keep the action and intrigue up from that point on.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 3 - Article 428-A /Unauthorized

"Your destruction is the will of the Gods... and we are their instrument."

— The Covenant's first transmission to humanity, after the glassing of Harvest.

Arcturus Station - 1 year, 9 months ago

Hackett's Office

Admiral Steven Hackett ran his calloused hands underneath the cool water flowing from the sink. Cupping some, he splashed it on his face, relishing the small shock to his nervous system. At his age, anything to wake up was appreciated. 'It's not the age, it's the mileage,' he reminded himself. He turned the water off and grabbed the hand towel to his left, brushing the water from his face and hands.

When he'd been informed of the meeting, he wasn't told what it was for. He'd only been told that it was important, it was secret, and it was mandatory. There were very few people or groups who could make demands of an Admiral, even less that could do it without mentioning who they were. But he'd called in some favors as well. Not a chance he was walking into this blind. Even among intelligence, his name held considerable weight.

An Alliance spook of some kind and a wormy looking man had shown up at his office and started giving him a physics lesson on quantum entanglement, transmissions, and dimensions. He'd listened for all of 15 minutes before excusing himself to his private office bathroom where he now stood.

He took a deep breath, then exhaled forcefully. It was time to change the tune of this conversation.

He turned and opened the door, quickly moving across the room and resumed his seat at his desk. He interlocked his fingers and placed them on the large desk in front of him and appraised his new guests.

The spook had barely spoken. She was a raven-haired girl, maybe mid-30's. The way she walked, the few words she'd spoken, and her overall demeanor had screamed military but she hadn't given him her name. Only her title of Captain. She stood maybe 5' 3", petite and lean, but otherwise attractive. The wormy fellow who sat to her left hadn't done anything except talk. A balding man, he wore a lab coat and an easy smile. He seemed to get more excited the more gibberish he spoke. Otherwise he was average height, average build, and sandy haired. He went by Doctor Metzger. They both sat silent now.

"Look, Metzger, I appreciate a trip down memory lane to physics class but I've got a full schedule. So why don't you cut to the chase so we can all get fed before the chow hall closes. I'm not supposed to know who either of you are, which means you're both intelligence. How about we start with whatever intelligence you have and what it has to do with me."

Metzger looked from Hackett to the girl. She nodded. Metzger then pulled out his briefcase, clicked it open, and pulled out several folded prints of paper. The Admiral was puzzled at seeing such an archaic medium. Their computer systems were among the most advanced in known space so he wondered at the use of paper. He allowed the doctor to stand and spread the papers on the desk.

The Admiral looked them over. Blueprints, he saw. There were calculations, dimensions, approximate materials needed, and build times for each. He wasn't sure what he was looking at. He tried to read them.

"Oscillating something magnets, something pitched plasma... Ionizing field... Deuterium particles... And now I'm bored." He was getting frustrated. "Metzger, I'll ask one last time or you can see yourself out. What do you want?"

"Of course. Sorry, sir," he said speaking quickly. "Not long ago this very station was contacted by an unknown entity via QEC communication. They somehow linked into the particles between here and an Alliance vessel."

"The Dresden. I remember the incident. I was informed it was a fluke. One in a trillion chance."

"Officially? True. But when our division heard of it, we took the particle and began talking back. They responded. We've been in constant communication with them ever since. Even sharing technology."

"Goddamn spies," Hackett muttered. "You've been sharing Alliance technology with some mystery pen pal? What possible reason could you have to compromise our security?"

"Well... Uh... I'll continue. Just... bear with me for a moment. They identified only as the usual suspects. As we started trading information, we treated it like any other first contact with a new species. But they spoke our language, though we are not sure how just yet. And after they received our first contact package, they began sending us details of new technologies. And we shared in kind. This one, for instance," he said and pointed to the print on Hackett's left. "Is a fusion powered shielding system. This one," and he pointed to the one just to the right of the first. "Is an FTL engine that relies on opening a wormhole instead of crossing space. We estimate a speed of between 2 to 3 light-years per day. And that last one, is a magnetically charged weapon with amazing yield, far beyond anything we have. Or any known race for that matter."

Hackett rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was quickly moving from frustrated to angry.

"Is this a joke? I was under the impression we already had all of this. Hell, our FTL drives are more than 7 times faster than that. You're telling me you're trading pearls for peanuts. Someone explain to me, quickly, the reasoning here or you can spend some time in my brig."

The two looked at each other across from the Admiral. The silent spy nodded again at Metzger who then looked back to Hackett.

"Sir... What they've given us... It requires no element zero to operate," he said nervously.

Hackett looked blankly between the two, pausing at what he'd just heard. His brow quickly furrowed and his gaze went from his guests to the room around him while he tried to come to terms with this new information. Realization of the implications of element zeroless technology dawned on him quickly. He didn't even know this was possible but he wasn't one to get ahead of himself.

"Okay. Let's say I believe you. Why give us this?"

The woman finally broke her silence. "Admiral, first, you don't have the authority to arrest either of us. Second, the truth is we don't know. They've given us no reasons. And they haven't asked for any element zero, before you ask. They gave us the shield, no strings attached. They've only asked for a chemical description, molecular makeup, and any research papers written on element zero. Our theory is that they believe they can fabricate it. We believe that to be impossible but.. so was FTL without eezo before all this. When we sent it the information, we received everything else you see here."

"Fine," he said. "So the SAIC has made decisions for all of us without a heads up and without a single thought to the consequences... Why are you in my office telling me about it."

"You know the value of secrecy, Admiral. I was briefed on some of your history. And we needed a military liaison. Parliament wouldn't approve a budget for us that any one of these items would require to develop. Especially since we don't usually handle anything tangible..." she left the sentence hanging.

"But they'd approve an increase in military spending if I presented this to them as potential defensive assets. Is that the game here?" Hackett asked.

She nodded. "I was told you were smart. I'm glad to see that it's true."

"I'm also opinionated," he spat back. "I don't like the circumstances surrounding this. And I damn sure don't like either of you."

He let his statement linger and gauged their reactions. The scientist shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. The woman didn't move an inch and he liked her even less for the smile she wore. All that aside, the potential advantages here were just too big to pass up.

"I'll do this because what they give us may very well protect lives. But I expect a report on this desk detailing every conversation you've had with these usual suspects. I want updates every step of the way, expense reports, and I want access to where this is taking place. If I don't like what I see, I will pull the plug."

Her condescending smile never wavered. "Admiral, we're trusting you with this. We expect the same in return. For now, all you need is what we're showing you."

"I apologize if you got the impression there was room to negotiate," he said. "I don't have the time for it. You will meet every request I make or this opportunity goes up in flames."

She leaned forward in her seat, still wearing the smug smile. "Admiral, I'm sure you realize that this is all beyond even you. Your position only goes so far here and if not you, there's always someone more agreeable. Just say yes."

"You must be new to the SAIC or you'd know my position has nothing to do with it. I didn't get to this desk with clean hands."

She sighed as if bored. "Admiral, is this really necessary? I was only making sure I was being clear."

"Then let me be equally clear, Captain Woods. Or do you prefer Erica?"

She froze as she heard her own name. She hadn't told Hackett her name, even Metzger didn't know. And it wasn't one of her cover names she used for official purposes. This was her real name. He watched as her smile faded but he wasn't trying to prove a point. He just wanted her attention without the attitude. Her whole face lost any grace and poise it had shown until now. She tried to recover.

"How did you..."

"You don't know how this works, Woods. They told you my name, briefed you on me. It means I'm their choice. They didn't send you here because I'll play your game. They sent you here for three reasons. First, I'm one of maybe four people who can pitch this. Second, I'm one of the few who know first hand how to run an Intel-Marine joint operation AND keep information protected. Third, I've forgotten more about classified materials and intelligence operations than you're ever likely to know. But the real reason is that this would have wound up on my desk either way and I'd have found all this out not matter who was behind it. Keep mistaking me for a fool, and I'll make sure you're off this project. Make no mistake, either of you, you worked for me as soon as your handler sent you to this office."

Her face was slack but her eyes were fuming. The doctor looked about the same but he'd started sweating now.

"While I still have your attention, honored guests, I'll expect that report before the end of the day. Call whoever you need to but the clock is ticking. And get your papers off my desk. Dismissed."

Metzger practically leapt out of his chair and began folding the blueprints in a hurried fashion but Woods just sat there. Hackett remembered being in her shoes a few times. She'd learn or wash out.

"If you think..."

"Dismissed. ...Captain." He held her gaze. She was furious and clearly outside of her element. He pitied her, if only for whichever higher up hadn't briefed her properly before sending her here. She looked away first, turning to see Metzger nervously closing his briefcase.

"We'll be in touch," she said before storming out with her sweating companion scurrying after her.

He sat there, arms crossed now. He knew he could probably pull this off but what 'this' might mean for humanity, he couldn't begin to guess. And who these 'usual suspects' might be bothered him. No one gave anything for free. He rubbed his tired eyes and leaned back, sighing audibly. He hit a button on his desk.

"Yes, Admiral," a voice said. His secretary.

"Lieutenant, get me Anderson. Tell him it's urgent and tell him it'll be a long call."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

The moment the Kodiak landed back on the Normandy, Shepard was out the door. She helped Garrus out and ordered him to the med-bay. Kasumi had taken over, leading the Turian toward the elevator. Shepard stood on her good leg, hands on her hips as she waited for Six. His ship, admittedly damaged, was painfully slow. She finally spotted him in the blackness of space. She had a few things on her mind that she needed to get out in the open.

His craft slowed as he approached. She grimaced as the corner with the dead engine scraped across the floor of the Normandy's shuttle bay before coming to a stop. The engines spooled down. The bay door closed and locked into place. Fresh atmosphere flooded the bay and she reached for her helmet. She fiddled with the seal before the pop and hiss told her it was broken. Glad to be rid of the thing, she set it on a nearby crate. Shepard had underestimated the size of the ship. It was at least 30 feet tall, and maybe just shy of a 100 feet in length. Why had she thought it was smaller than that? Between his ship and their Kodiak, the shuttle bay was practically at full capacity. She waved at him while he powered down the engines.

She heard the back hatch lowering and walked toward the rear of the green-gray machine.

Six was dizzy. The HUD on his cracked visor kept flickering on and off. Damaged beyond repair, he was sure, but he was worried that his Mjolnir would be the least of his troubles. His shields had failed halfway through his one man war on the bridge, his damaged power core was slowly losing power. His Mjolnir was still functional as a force multiplier for now but the movements were jerky, slow. It was only a matter of time before he'd have to ditch it. His breathing was shallow and rapid, pain seeping into every breath. He felt heavy. His HUD flickered on long enough to let him know his health readout was red and flashing. Less than 15% by his suits estimation.

He looked up from the cockpit and saw Shepard wave at him. He was well past his limits. He only hoped a UNSC outfit was nearby. Otherwise, things were about to get complicated.

'You're on your own,' Carter's voice shot through his mind.

He ignored the stray thought with practiced efficacy. He braced and lifted himself off the seat and caught himself with the wall of the Pelican. He steadied himself and looked down at his seat, now marked with blood. He was leaking through the biofoam now and it only went so far to begin with. He hit the back hatch button and slowly exited the Pelican.

Shepard rounded the corner with a smile to greet her new friend. Might as well start friendly until she knew more. Someone like that could be useful, at least until they found his people and returned him. And she was curious, she had to admit. The circumstances surrounding him were a mystery and she loved solving mysteries. She wanted the whole story. Her eyes met his visor and her smile faded.

She looked down and saw his armor under the fluorescent light of her ship and saw what she had missed in the low lights of the alien craft. Crimson streaks were congealing along his armored legs, bloody boot prints followed him from his seat to where he stood at the bottom of the ramp. He stood straight as an arrow, moving as if oblivious to his own injuries. She had seen the color of the blood in the aliens on the derelict. And although the giant had plenty of all of their colors on his armor also, none of them had been red.

"Oh, shit," she said. She rushed forward instinctively but stopped short when he took a step back.

She had worry written all over face. "What?"

"I'm fine," was all it said.

"Bullshit! Get your ass to the med bay. Have Chakwas check you out."

"I'll wait until we get to a UNSC station."

"Yeah, about that. I've never heard of it. EDI! Can you do a search for UNSC?"

"United Nations Space Command," he said aloud.

The giant didn't seem perturbed in the least when the voice of the VI responded. "Extranet has many listings for the acronym UNSC. However, United Nations Space Command has no listings."

The giant shook its head. "Don't play games with me, Commander. I don't have the patience."

The Commander walked right up to the giant and poked a finger in it's chest. Her eyes were narrow, face stern. "Listen, Six. First, I'm not playing at anything. Second, and let me make myself abundantly clear, if you threaten me, my ship, or anyone else on it, my kindness ends. You attempt to carry out on any threats, and I can promise it will be the last action you take in this life. Now," she said, removing her finger and straightening up. Her face resumed a neutral expression. "We can worry about all that later. I don't know how things work where you're from, but here, on this ship, I'm in charge. And while you're my guest, you'll do as I say. This isn't a request. You can help me find this UNSC all you want. But first, you WILL report to the med bay. Dr. Chakwas is certified in multiple species' biology and is competent enough to get you patched back up, probably better than new. Again, not a request. Am I making myself clear?"

He gave no indication he was the least bit worried about her. She failed to see the smile play at the corners of his mouth behind his visor. He glanced at his HUD. His health had dropped again. Internal bleeding.

"Okay, Commander. I'll need access to the... Extranet, I think your AI said. And I'll see your medic. But no medical information will be recorded. My armor will not leave my sight. And no one enters the Pelican. All of them are property of the UNSC military and will be defended."

One word caught her off guard even more than the casual mention of an AI. "Pelican?"

He gestured at his ship.

"Ah. Stupid name. Sure. Whatever. You have my word. Now, can we please go to the med bay? You're staining my deck."

He looked down and noticed his boot prints as if finally aware he wasn't entirely okay after all. He looked up and nodded. She made her way to the elevator and he followed. Even injured and with a slight limp, it unnerved her how quietly he moved. She turned several times to make sure he was actually still there. She hit the elevator and the door slid open. They both stepped inside and she hit the button for the '3rd deck.' It was an uncomfortable silence as they rode up. She kept looking at him, wondering what was under the armor. What did this thing look like? Did it breathe like they did? Would she have the proper food? She supposed the answers would come after the medical workup.

The doors opened to the third deck and she stepped out with the giant behind her. There were conversations around her, crew hanging out or playing cards, eating at the ships mess. Everything went quiet when the thing behind her stepped into view. Everything stopped. Everyone stared.

"As you were," Shepard said loudly. Everyone pointedly resumed their activities but no conversations were being held now. They all stole glances as she walked her latest guest to the med bay.

The door opened and there in the first bed lay her favorite, overly-talkative mercenary. Miranda had occupied the far bed. Garrus was on a stool as the Doctor looked like she was just finishing up.

"You'll be fine. Just a concussion. Don't go to sleep for the next 24 hours, drink fluids, and see me at once if your symptoms worsen."

"Thank you," he responded and stood to exit. The Turian's eyes caught Six's faceplate. Shepard could feel Six tense behind her. Garrus widened his eyes, as much as a Turian can do such a thing. Shepard reached to her side and placed a hand on Six's arm. The giant snapped to look down at her. She held his gaze. He relaxed after a moment. Garrus, who clearly didn't want to stick around, sheepishly slid by the two.

"Garrus," Shepard halted him. "You gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, just a headache really."

"Glad you're okay, buddy. I hate to ask, but our new friend here wants to access the extranet. Can you grab a spare omnitool?"

"Sure thing," he said with a nod toward Six as he kept walking.

Shepard moved into the bay as Chakwas, apparently oblivious to their presence, moved toward Miranda.

"Hey, Zaeed," Jane said.

She had to admit, he didn't look half bad. He'd gotten his color back and he greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, Shepard."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I could wrestle a Krogan." He lifted his gown. "Check that out, huh," he said. His scar ran all the way from the left side of below his sternum all the way around to his back. He eyeballed Six. "Gonna be a great addition to my collection. Who's the monster?"

"Oh, right. You were out. Zaeed, this is Six. Six, Zaeed." They nodded at each other. "Six saved our asses. The thing that tagged you took almost all of us out. Six showed up and took it down."

"Yeah, I heard something about that. You're a big goddamn bastard but that other thing was huge. Thanks for the help. I can't be the only one to save the day every time the Commander lands in hot water."

Six actually responded, surprising the Commander. "Is she in danger often?"

The Merc laughed. "Ha! Look her up sometime. Commander Jane Shepard. See for yourself."

"My God," a voice spoke up from the back of the bay.

Doctor Chakwas practically abandoned Miranda for Six. She took him in from head to toe. "I assume there's a way to get that armor off of you. Quickly, please. You're bleeding on my work space." She just stared at Six, who in turn turned to look at Shepard.

"Hey, I'm only the Commander of the ship. In the Med Bay, she's the queen. But Doctor," Jane added dropping to a whisper. "I want no electronic records. Purge any information you get. His request."

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, yes. Fine. You, tall one. Over there," she snapped and gestured at Miranda's bed.

"Doctor," Miranda said. "You haven't finished my examination."

"And are you bleeding, Miranda? No? Good. Then sit on that stool in the corner and be quiet. I'll get to you when I'm through with..."

"Six," he said.

"Of course it is," the doctor said sarcastically. "Over on the table then. And take all of that off."

Six hobbled over to the bed just as Miranda was leaving it. She bumped into Six rather hard. Or rather, she bounced off of him as he didn't move an inch. He eyed her imperiously.

"Excuse me," she said. She made her way to the door. "Doctor, I'll be in my quarters. You may examine me later. I'm sure you'll be quite busy." She excused herself and took off rather hurriedly toward the elevator. The door to the med bay closed shortly after.

"Huh," Zaeed chimed in. "That was weird."

Six had pulled some type of tool from a pouch. It was a metallic cylinder, about a foot long. He opened the bottom where it appeared as though additional pieces were stored. He pulled one out and attached it to the tip.

"And what is that," Chakwas asked.

"Mjolnir Field Tool," he replied tersely.

He attached it to a point on his shin and went to work. His back was to Jane and Zaeed. He placed it against multiple points on his armor and one after another, they came loose. Jane, who had taken a stool next to Zaeed, noted that there seemed to be a lot of anchor points on that armor. He removed a shin plate assembly and placed it on the ground. It landed with an incredibly heavy thud.

Zaeed leaned to Shepard and said, "that armor must weight a literal ton."

Jane nodded and they both turned their rapt attention. Both were curious what was under there. What did this thing look like? In short order, the giant had both shins, thighs, forearms, upper arms, what Zaeed laughingly referred to as a 'codpiece,' gauntlets, and shoulders arranged on the ground. Doctor Chakwas waited less than patiently, arms crossed and tapping her foot. He hesitated with his chest piece.

"Well," Chakwas said impatiently.

"They're connected. The chest and back piece. There's usually a machine that removes them. They're heavy."

Chakwas pursed her lips and waved Jane over. "Hold one in place, please, so we can get on with it."

"You got it, Doc." Jane threw a mass effect field and clamped the back piece, removing its mass and essentially making it float. Six turned to see what was happening.

"How are you..." But Chakwas cut him off.

"You can speak later. I assure you she's quite capable of holding your armor. Continue."

He glared at an unflinching doctor before continuing. He peeled the chest piece off with a series of clicks and caught it. With another impossibly heavy thud, he placed it on the ground. Shepard slowly lowered the back piece to the ground. When she dispersed the effect field she bent over breathing heavily. Six wasn't kidding, that armor was heavy as hell. As he went to grab his helmet, something caught her eye. There, on the back of his gray helmet, was writing. It looked like it had been done with a permanent marker.

It read "situation = hopeless" in perfectly plain English.

"Wait a minute..." She said quietly. English? Why would Six have English on his helmet? She began to really look over his build and found plantigrade feet, four fingers with an opposable thumb, familiar proportions... But that meant…

With a pop and a hiss, the seal for his helmet came loose and Six pulled it off. She saw the back of his head. There was an electronic connector of some kind on his head but that wasn't what drew the Commander's attention. His skin was sharply pale, alabaster even. She could see there was maybe four weeks worth of hair growth on his head, two ears, and she saw the outline of a jaw with the same four weeks worth of hair growth from the side as she leaned to look more.

Six was human.

"Goddamn," Zaeed whispered.

"Son of a bitch," Shepard said too loudly.

Six turned to look at her. Her mouth hung open, brow furrowed as she looked at her new guest. He had chiseled features but wasn't classically handsome. He was certainly striking. Attractive in his own way, even with the unnaturally pale skin. But those eyes; an inhuman azure stared back at her. She was lost in them for a moment, the broken blood vessel there contrasting the deep blue with bright crimson. His cheeks were sunken and eyes heavily bagged as if he hadn't eaten or slept in days. Weeks, even. He carried several smaller scars, and a couple of larger ones on his face and neck. He had an open gash on his head that was still slowly oozing blood onto his forehead. But what really haunted her was his youth. He couldn't be more than 22, maybe younger. But his face, those eyes, had that same quality as Samara's; ageless and diamond hard. He carried himself in a much older way.

"You may have a seat, Commander, or go on about your business. I'll alert you when I'm ready to take a look at that leg," Chakwas said as she drew a curtain and cut off the Shepard's view.

The last thing Jane saw as the curtain was drawn was Six pulling off his heavy, thick undersuit. Peeled from his shoulders and back, she caught a glimpse of more scars and trauma. He had serious burns everywhere, and what looked like projectile weapons damage. So many scars... He had a sharply defined, Olympian level gymnast's physique. He was sinewy and striated, veins criss-crossing along his neck, arms, and forearms. The pale pallor of his skin was only contrasted by the burns, cuts, and bruising. She saw the doctors face pull tight before her view was cut by the curtain. Shepard just stood and stared at the fabric now obstructing her view, open-mouthed.

"Well, that's not something you see every day," Zaeed said quietly. "He's just a goddamn kid. Did you see those eyes..." He trailed off.

The medbay door opened and there stood Garrus with the omnitool Shepard had entirely forgotten about. He held it out and Shepard took it numbly.

"Shepard, what's wrong?"

"He's human," she whispered.

"Who's human? Zaeed? I don't know if I'd go that far but..."

Jane cut him off, again whispering. "No. Six is human."

The Turian paused. "Huh... I didn't know they made humans that large. What does that mean exactly?"

"I have no idea," the Commander responded. "But I intend to find out.

They could hear a rapid beeping from behind the curtain and muffled voices. Chakwas raised her voice.

"EDI, please inform Dr. Solus that I require his assistance. Immediately."

"At once, Doctor."

Jane, Zaeed, and Garrus all looked at each other.

"Well," Garrus said as he passed the plastic bag with the used omnitool in it to Jane. "See ya."

He turned and strode out the door quickly.

Shepard, sensing the situation may warrant some space, bid her goodbyes to Zaeed and left. She made her way to the elevator, limping slightly but trying not to show any pain. When she entered it and the doors closed, she took stock of everything. She needed to process, time to think. She got to her quarters for now. She had MediGel on here and she figured that was as good of a treatment on her leg as any.

If Six was human, what were the implications here? Had to be Alliance. Some new type of soldier or armor. But why the aliens ship? Why hadn't she known? What else was the Alliance up to?

"EDI, let me know when Chakwas and Mordin are finished with our guest."

"I will, Commander."

Miranda's fingers flew furiously over her terminal. Whatever was on this thing was proving to be a challenge. She'd palmed it when she bumped him in the medical bay. Pulled it right from his pouch. It was a small chip of some sort, data of some kind, she'd guessed. She'd been looking for the orange chip but only came up with this smaller, black one. As soon as she was able, she'd locked herself in her office and tried to connect it. It had taken a few different methods to read it but what stood before her was as fascinating as it was infuriating.

For one, it was coded in some computer language she had never seen before. EDI had mapped it for her but the encryption level and detail on it was extremely complex. EDI had spent the last 10 minutes attempting to crack it. For a VI that was a lifetime and the operative had to admit that to stump EDI for even 5 minutes was impressive. Miranda had spent her time attempting to compile similar codes next to each other and hoping to find a pattern or function. The coding may be alien, but she wasn't some neophyte tech enthusiast either. As she followed the patterns and rearranged their order, she began to see it.

"EDI... Can you arrange this sequence here into a user interface?"

"At once, Ms. Lawson."

The code on her screen compiled and reformed. It was broken and glitchy, clearly incomplete but there it was. She could see readable text that seemed active in the left side of the GUI. It began displaying readouts. It was an operating system of some kind. One after the other, readings cycled through her monitor.

On the left side of her screen it read:

UNSC - OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE

SERVER: ERROR: UNABLE TO CONNECT ::HIGHCOM/ REACH / CASTLE::

CURRENT ACCESS: [::error\\\ idhll21xaecraa775782pk::]

Checking file systems... Done.

ERROR: MISSING OR CORRUPT DATA

Checking Security: STATD

Encryption Code: Orange

Location: Unknown (ERROR: NO NETWORK)

Authorization: ERROR [\\\ 15d7x2r2c7ep7alaikh8la::]

WARNING: ALL INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED. USE OF REPORTING ANY INFORMATION FROM THIS DRIVE WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION.

Attempting Connection: ERROR: NO NETWORK

Subject: B-312

Content: audio/visual records [MJOLNIR MK. V]

CLASSIFICATION: [-NOVEMBER BLACK-]

COMPILATION HALTED. DATA CORRUPT.

Unauthorized Access attempt has been detected. ERROR: NO NETWORK: INITIALIZING...

Execute: .PRTCL.1A

INITIALIZING...

PURGING DATA

Miranda immediately froze the program and halted it's operations. She couldn't risk losing any information. She was intrigued by what she had read, however. Direct mention of UNSC and some Office of Naval Intelligence. But what she was most interested in was whatever "audio/visual" could be. The rest had been gibberish of a barely functional system.

"EDI, comb this data. Catalogue everything. And see if there's a way to find any audio or visual data. Translate it into your coding if you can."

"One moment, Ms. Lawson. I must warn you that this program has attempted to infiltrate my systems. I have sectioned it off. It attempted to access Normandy's communications. It very nearly succeeded."

Miranda narrowed her eyes. Half of an operating system had just attempted to counter her breach. As far as she could tell, the coding hadn't even been fully functional. All of this for audio and visual files? This Office of Naval Intelligence, whoever they were, did not do half-measures.

Something else bothered her. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. She scanned and rescanned the frozen program. She leaned in closer, surprised she hadn't seen it before.

"EDI, find this grouping of alphanumeric symbols; 15d7x2r2c7ep7alaikh8la. In any order you find them. Run extrapolations."

"Scanning, Ms. Lawson."

She had seen that grouping twice in the readout, just swapped around. It was like an anagram of some sort.

"Finished, Ms. Lawson. Extrapolated information revealed key in coding cipher. Displaying corrected system operations. This program is advanced, Ms. Lawson. It was not designed to run on its own."

"Explain," the operative said.

"It is not simply data. It is it's own program, almost an entire operating system on its own. But this is only a partial system. It appears to be designed to run simultaneously with another system in order to decode data. It has blocked all attempts to run without it. I am currently attempting to pose as it's missing adjacent system. I am cycling 1.4 million combinations per second."

"Sounds promising. Do you know when you may unlock it?"

"Unknown. But using the alphanumeric key you provided, I attempted every iteration and sequence and did manage partial access to partial files. I will display them on your terminal."

A series of files appeared in front of the operative. She was almost salivating at what they may contain. She also couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk she began to wear. She was confident in her abilities to outmaneuver whatever this intelligence agency could throw at her. Besides, VI's the caliber of EDI were few and far between. Whoever this UNSC and Office of Naval Intelligence really were, they'd be no match for Cerberus' best and an advanced VI... The attempt at hacking their communications was disturbing but of no consequence. Not now, at any rate.

She pressed one of the files. The title was a series of jumbled numbers. Perhaps she would have to decipher those as well.

The halted program restarted and displayed modified text:

UNSC - OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE

SERVER: ERROR: UNABLE TO CONNECT ::HIGHCOM/ REACH / CASTLE::

ACCESS: LEXIC DARK 52278 ALPHA 771

BYPASS::: missing data

HALTING TRANSFER

BYPASS::: missing execution

Subject: B-312

Content: audio/visual records [MJOLNIR MK. V]

File: B312-4555900041

A new window appeared over the program. It played like a video but was badly corrupted. It split in places, froze in others, and the voices didn't seem to sync properly. But she managed to view file now.

It opened up in a dark room. It looked like a bunker of some sort. The first thing Miranda saw was a dead body on the floor. It was human and blood pooled around it's torso. An armored foot cut into the shot and the camera jerked up but landed on two men in a corner. One was armored like their new recruit in the med bay but in blue rather than gray, the other was also armored but appeared normal sized.

In the top left hand corner of the screen overlayed on the video she saw more text.

PROPERTY OF THE UNSC

FOR EYES ONLY

UNSC, ARMY, SPECWARCOM, NOBLE TEAM

SUBJECT: B-312 [T-ID/ "Noble Six"]

LOCATION: EPSILON ERIDANI II [A-ID/ Reach]

"Where's the rest of your unit," a man in blue armor asked.

"We got split..." The normal human replied haltingly. "I don't think they... It sounded bad on the comms."

Miranda's mouth fell open. Humans. But that meant...

A hand extended from the camera and Miranda realized this wasn't just a video file. This was helmet cam footage. The hand was a dead ringer for Six in his armor. Miranda sat up with renewed interest as it played on. The hand checked the body of the dead man on the floor.

"Alright, Corporal. Stay put. We'll get you a combat surgeon." It was blue armor speaking.

"Damn," a distinctly feminine voice said. The camera came up to see an equally feminine form clad in teal armor. "Plasma damage," teal spoke. Six's hand had fished some kind of key, tool, or disc from the floor.

"Found something," he said. Six held whatever he was holding up.

"I'll take that, Six," teal said in her odd accent. "Not your domain."

"I got a live one over here," a voice off camera said. This voice was deep, also with an accent. Almost Hungarian.

The camera moved and Miranda laid eyes on the biggest man she had ever seen in her life. His armor was heavier looking. By a large margin. It was yellow and red. His size was made even more evident by the woman he was holding. She beat her fists into his armor and yelled in a language Miranda was unfamiliar with but she could sense the anger in her words. Was this big one human, too? Was Six?

"I'm not gonna hurt you," the big one said as blue and teal walked in front of six.

"Jorge," blue armor said.

"Pause video," Miranda said. "EDI, see if you find any mention of a "George" in that code. Resume video."

"I've got her," Jorge said. "Keep still, and I'll release you."

The woman fell still and Jorge released her. She began to speak quietly. Miranda leaned in to hear her. Miranda noted the gentleness of the Jorge. He seemed soft where the others seemed hardened. Clearly, whatever had happened, had done nothing to dull the gentle giant's nature. Miranda jumped ever so slightly when a red blur descended from the ceiling and with a snap-hiss activated a weapon the Cerberus operative had seen before. It was one of the monsters from the derelict. It leapt down to the ground to engage the armored humans.

"What's your status, over," an unknown voice asked over the radio.

"We've been engaged," roared Jorge.

The small room erupted into a cacophony of gun fire and yells. Six raised his weapon and opened fire before the larger alien rammed him with it's shoulder, laying Six out on the floor. It ran off screen as Six took aim.

"Bad guy coming out!" Another unknown voice yelled.

An arm appeared offscreen and grabbed Six. It was another crimson armored alien. It roared in his face and raised its energy blade weapon. Six caught it by the wrist, jerked it down closer to him, and let loose a fist in its face. It shook its head and opened all four jaws and roared again. A swift kick from blue armor launched the alien off of Six and blue opened fire with a pistol. The alien's strange shields flared under the assault and it ran further into the bunker. Blue armor kicked a rifle to Six who picked it up, cocked it, and put it back into his shoulder.

The alien now had grabbed a civilian and was using her as a shield. Her screams were chilling. Teal and blue drew weapons and aimed but held fire. The alien grumbled and disappeared into the door.

"That tango blew through. Permission to pursue."

"Negative, Four," blue armor said. "Stay on the entrance. Two, handle her. Five and six, clear the hole."

Jorge, walked forward with a massive gun toward the door and Six followed. Miranda guessed Five had to be Jorge. That meant at least that "six" wasn't heir new guest's real name. They both walked into the darkness without hesitation. The camera panned to see Jorge close the door behind them and they made their way into the darkness.

The video ended there.

"Ms. Lawson, I have uncovered further audio and visual files. They are on your terminal."

"Play it," she said.

"Which video, Ms. Lawson?"

"All of them and see if you can organize these files in chronological order."

"I will do my best, Ms. Lawson. However, the files are still largely scrambled and encrypted. Until I can bypass the adjacent system requirement of the data, I will only be able to give you partial files."

"Understood. Just do it."

EDI broke the silence. "Found no reference to 'George,' Ms. Lawson, but I did find images matching the earlier clip. Shall I play them?"

"Yes, please."

The view opened to an interior Miranda felt like she had seen before. It was purple, metallic. She even caught a glimpse of the same shielding she had seen on the derelict that kept the atmosphere of the ship intact.

She heard Jorge say over the radio "Savannah did a number on the door. There's no way back up to the Sabres. Noble Six, form up on me."

From Six's point of view, he moved quickly to the other side of the hangar and there stood the much larger soldier. He was standing before some sort of display.

"Distance is closing on this vessel's refueling track with the Covenant Supercarrier. Seventy-six seconds to endpoint," a female, synthetic voice suddenly spoke.

'Supercarrier?' Miranda thought.

Jorge, back still facing Six, seemed to be speaking to the panel before him as he was pressing buttons.

"Damn it... So, it's going to be like that," the giant said as he slapped the side of the machine.

He turned and caught Six's attention as he walked over. Six was huge but was dwarfed by Jorge.

"Well, I got good news and bad news. This bird took some fire and her thruster gimbal is toast. So the only way off this slag heap... is gravity."

Gravity? Miranda perked up. Perhaps a planet. Where were they in relation to known space?

"And the good news?" It still felt weird when she heard his voice. She was seeing his world in glimpses through his eyes. A world she felt she wasn't entirely supposed to see but she never could help herself. Besides, she needed to know more about him if he was going to be staying here.

"That was the good news," Jorge said.

The synthetic voice could be heard again. Miranda assumed it was some VI or alert system. "At current velocity, fifty-three seconds to endpoint."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Jorge pulled off his helmet and Miranda saw him for the first time. She blanched even as she had already suspected his race, it was still jarring. She quickly correlated the same realization with Six. They were all human. She took Jorge in, a thousand questions in her mind now. She went from the "B+" blood type on his chest to the UNSC and eagle emblazoned not far off. Jorge had sharp features with short, dark brown hair that was starting to gray. His brow protruded slightly, the signs of aging on his features, and with the short beard he wore, all gave him an appealing, almost wild, masculine look. His eyes were brown but almost sparkled as they refracted light. She wondered momentarily if she might get to meet him, too.

She began to wonder what sort of organization this really was. It seemed human enough but the suits, the tech, the weapons, none of it fit with her knowledge of the systems. Was this some separatist organization? How had it slipped by Cerberus' radar?

The giant human dropped his helmet on the ground where it hit with a resonating thud. How did they move in that armor?

"Bad news is, timer's fried. I'm gonna have to fire it manually," Jorge said. He said it so casually, as if talking about the weather, that Miranda almost missed the connotation altogether.

But Six's helmet jerked up sharply. It was only a fraction of a second but Miranda caught it before Six replied.

"That's a one way trip," he said.

Her suspicion confirmed, she felt a strange sense of loss. As if no matter what else she uncovered, she would already know how this part ended.

"We all make it sooner or later," Jorge said quietly. "Better get going, Six, they're gonna need you down there."

Jorge reached up to his neck and pulled out two silver tabs. Dog tags, Miranda realized. He yanked them from his neck. So this was…

"Listen, Reach has been good to me," Jorge continued. His hand extended with dog tags in them, Six took it in his own. "Don't deny me this." Jorge pulled Six in close, grip tightening, then lifted the smaller man up with what appeared to be one hand and began carrying him. He stopped at what she had seen earlier was the edge of the ship. Jorge looked at Six, eyes hard, jaw set. Again, not even a glimmer of stress. Just grim determination.

"Tell 'em to make it count," he said and let go.

Six fell, eyes still on Jorge before he turned and reentered the alien craft that looked so much like the one she had been on only a short while ago. Miranda felt a small tug on her conscience. Eyes wide she watched the craft come into frame as the camera fell. But what was beyond it now commanded her full attention. Compared to the ship Jorge was on, the one behind it was absolutely impossible. Literally impossible.

"EDI, calculate approximate size of both vessels."

"Extrapolating approximate size of Six against Jorge with surrounding ship dimensions. Approximating distance. First ship approximately 1 kilometer long and 400 meters wide. Unknown distance to second craft. Based on camera focus, second craft is between 26 and 30 kilometers long, between 9.5 and 12 kilometers wide."

It couldn't be... It just wasn't possible. If this was what these other aliens were truly capable of, she shuddered to think about the implications. If it had weapons that matched it's imposing size, even a Reaper fleet may pale in comparison. That alone was worth considering.

She watched Jorge's ship disappear into the mass of the leviathan behind it. With a purple flash, the entire sky imploded and then exploded. A purple, shimmering energy struck Six as he was falling. The camera turned down and Miranda felt her mouth hanging open realizing that Six was falling from low orbit towards a planet. His armor must be more than met the eye to have survived that, she guessed. Or maybe he had an attachment of some kind. The thought was short lived as her mind was consumed once again with the size of the vessel that had just been destroyed. Even at EDI's smallest approximation, 26 kilometers, it was the largest craft she'd heard of even in stories. She could only imagine the level of destruction such a ship could cause.

"Slipspace rupture detected." Six's comms crackled to life as that same female synthetic voice came through. It was met with a myriad of additional transmissions.

"Slipspace rupture detected."

"Gamma Station Control, reading multiple pings below the Orbital Defense Grid," one voice said.

Miranda saw through Six's eyes as more ships that could only be the same aliens began appearing out of thin air as he turned back toward the sky, the heat of reentry just starting to curl around him. She was suddenly considering the very real possibility that what she was witnessing may very well be FTL, or Slip Space theory, without the aid of a Mass Relay. It had been written about in many papers and all races had tried to create such technology but always ran into the same issue of relativistic distortion of space and time. Cerberus had even tried it's hand, sinking entire fortunes into combining technologies. It had been assumed impossible but here she was potentially watching it happen right in front of her.

"Slipspace rupture detected," the voice repeated.

"Yeah, we're picking up anomalies too," another voice said.

"Are you reading this?" Another said.

Miranda was now watching a full scale invasion. The overwhelming size of the craft, the sheer amount of them... There was no way something like this was going on out there with no one else knowing about it. Especially with humans. It was just unthinkable. Which meant... What, exactly? She didn't know.

"Slipspace rupture detected."

The voice from before continued, clearly disturbed, almost panicked. "Multiple Covenant signatures! Does anyone have a visual?"

"Slipspace rupture detected."

"They're everywhere!" Another unknown voice in terror answered. But he was right. Miranda watched as even more Covenant ships appeared out of nowhere. They were endless. She shuddered at the idea of them discovering this area of space. As more and more poured into view, she told herself again that the idea of a secret, advanced humanity anywhere in known space fighting an enemy capable of this was impossible. Unless…

"Slipspace rupture detected."

Her thoughts died. She had a lifetime of cold calculations but watching what could only spell the annihilation of this planet had stolen her apathy. No matter the story, these were humans, her people. A planet full of them.

"Oh, this can't be happening," another unknown voice said barely above a whisper.

And she had a sinking feeling that whatever battle had occurred had not ended well.

'Six, what happened. What happened to them,' she thought.

"Slipspace rupture detected."

"Must be the whole damn Covenant fleet," yet another voice yelled.

"Slipspace rupture detected."

The video ended there. Miranda just sat in her chair trying to process what she had just seen. This alien enemy... Limitless in number, it seemed, and technologically superior, seemed to have a grudge with humans. Or at least this version of them. But how!? How could this be happening anywhere at all?

Miranda was suddenly aware that she hadn't taken a breath. She closed her open mouth. She was sweating along her brow, heart beating rapidly. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled forcefully, attempting to calm herself. Could this be some hoax?

"EDI, keep playing them," she said after regaining her composure.

Miranda went through file after file. The more she saw, heard, and learned, the more she began to fear something else was going on. This was too elaborate to be fabricated. She had seen one of these aliens with her own eyes. Her bruised ribs reminded her of the encounter. Her biotics were potent, on par with the Asari, at least in her mind. Yet a single kick from just one of these monsters had broken her barrier, her armor, and very nearly her ribs. She had been taken clean off of her feet from the impact. To picture an entire invasion gave her shivers. The Illusive Man needed to know about this... But she struggled with the idea. Maybe everyone needed to know about this, not just Cerberus.

She also needed to talk with Six but she wasn't ready to tip her hand just yet. She needed more information before admitting she'd stolen from the man.

"EDI," she said carefully after a few moments. "What are the current theories about a multiverse?"

Shepard had stripped her armor and the kinetic bodysuit. She was alone in her private quarters. She wore nothing as she examined herself in the mirror. Her sheer athleticism was revealed through hardened muscles, softened only by the undeniable curves that complimented her form. She'd always wished she was less... Feminine. Her proportions had always been enviable but she swore that Cerberus had exaggerated a few things, not the least of which resembled an hourglass. Not to any ridiculous degree, but certainly enough that she was happy the armor managed to cover a lot of it besides her hips. Those had proven difficult to downplay no matter what she wore. She was not staring at her own aesthetics, however, as she checked the bruise that was forming on her back. It lined up well with the cracked portions of her armor. That alien Six had disposed of could sure kick. She'd pulled up her private terminal and checked the records the Doctor had put on the crew she had seen. Garrus had suffered some minor head trauma and bruising but his Turian physiology was stalwart. Zaeed had been fresh out from under the knife when she had made it to the med bay. She'd seen with her own eyes that he looked good, all things considered. His damage had been mostly cosmetic thanks to the cauterization of the energy weapon used on him. No permanent damage, he'd been lucky. He was immobilized and he'd have a fun new story to talk about.

She pulled up her Omnitool and applied MediGel to her singed and tender flesh on both her thigh and her shin. Her kinetic barrier had flashed but hadn't done much to stop the super-heated gas. The ablative plates and kinetic bodysuit had probably saved her leg. She'd been hit with Geth plasma before but this was something else. She'd seen the bodies before hitting the bridge. This kind of plasma may have burned clean through her if it hadn't been for her defenses but it still singed her flesh.

The gel bonded and stuck, fusing her injury. The pain Immediately reduced to first a stinging, cool throb until even that became just a feeling of cold relief. She breathed a huge sigh. If only her back and neck could be fixed so easily.

Shepard hit her private shower and hot water began spraying. She stepped in and just stood, letting the water cascade over her body. As her thoughts began to materialize, she began to wash the day off of her.

And then there was Six. As far as she could tell, he made zero sense. He was huge, even more so in that armor. She flashed back to his encounter with the monster on the bridge. That thing had torn through her like paper and no one on her team was exactly helpless. She may very well have the deadliest people in known space on this ship and it hadn't counted for much. She bit back the sting of guilt she felt at failing her team. That thing had been too fast, too strong, and the quarters were too tight. But Six had brought it down seemingly without effort and he'd been wounded. Badly. Shepard flashed back to the moment that helmet had come off…

Those eyes... That young face…

She shook herself. She needed answers and she'd get them. She wondered if there was a way to convince him to stay on for a while. He was competent and lethal enough even if his circumstances bothered her. But she figured whatever Alliance experiment he was, they would probably want him back. She steeled herself and began to scrub. She winced when she tended to her wounded leg. She grimaced when she had to twist her head or back to move. A brand new body and she had already put too many damn miles on it.

"Commander," a voice in her room spoke.

"Go ahead, EDI."

"Ms. Lawson has requested to speak with you."

"Twice in one day. Must be my Irish luck. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. Thoughts, EDI?" she asked from the shower.

"I wouldn't presume to tell you how to spend your free time, Commander."

Jane turned off the shower and rolled her eyes. Now free of sweat, blood, and grime, she toweled herself off. "It was a joke, EDI. Tell Miranda I'll see her later. I need sleep. Wake me only if there is an emergency. Or if Garrus or the Doc ask for me."

"Understood, Commander. Sleep well."

Jane hung her towel up and walked into her quarters. She made her way to the dresser and pulled out a pair of tights and a tank top, putting them on unceremoniously and flopping on to her bed. She had been going non-stop since she had woken up in that Cerberus base and her velocity had only increased since. She wondered if she was even fully herself anymore. How would she know? She felt every ache and pain from hours on hours of motion and adventure. She was exhausted but her eyes remained open. Her thoughts turned to Six again.

"I'm on my own," he had said. She knew that feeling.

He unnerved her in more ways than one. She didn't like unknowns and she certainly didn't trust this guy. But she pictured him on that ship, alone, surrounded by those things. He had shown up when the commotion started. He'd been left for dead or at the very least believed he might die there. Whatever had really happened, he'd put up one hell of a fight. And she'd even seen him in action herself, if only for a few seconds. She sighed and rolled over to her side, bringing her knees up.

"Who the hell are you," she said quietly.

She didn't know when she'd fallen asleep. She'd been dreaming but couldn't quite remember the details as she stirred. What had woken her?

"Commander."

"What, EDI," she said as she threw a pillow over her head.

"Doctor Chakwas would like to see you."

Shepard sat bolt upright. "Did she say what it was about?"

"She did not."

"Tell her I'm on my way."

"No need, Commander. She's on her way to see you now."

Shepard was waiting, arms crossed at the elevator. Good Lord, that thing took forever. When the doors finally opened, Doctor Chakwas was there with a thick file in her hand. She stepped out and greeted the Commander with the usual level of respect for an officer.

"You didn't need to dress up, Commander. It's only me," she said dryly.

Jane looked down at her tights and tank top. "I'll keep that in mind next time you let yourself in."

Chakwas smiled at the witty rejoinder.

"Shall we," she asked.

Jane stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. She strode past the Commander and looked around the room.

"Down the stairs and to the right," Jane said.

They both moved to the area in the corner. The doctor sat on the couch, Jane took the seat. Jane stared at her expectantly. Chakwas cooly looked Jane up and down slowly.

"No wonder Miranda seems to hate you," she said with just a hint of a smile.

Jane threw her a venomous glare and crossed her arms over her chest and crossed her legs, suddenly self-conscious.

"Well, Doctor? Did you come up here to ogle or did you have something for me."

Chakwas' self-satisfied smile faded and she stood and reached out, folder in hand extended. Jane also stood momentarily and grabbed it. She flipped it open, unable to discern heads from tails.

"Uh... Well. Hmmmm... This appears to be medical in nature," Jane said sarcastically.

"You're not wrong. I suppose I'll give you the highlights but that folder is the only copy on this ship. Per your request, I recorded nothing electronically but what I found was... Worth making notes about. I'm sure you can at least read in the file that we're discussing Six, as he calls himself."

"What did you find?"

"I'll start with the surgery. We closed several internal bleeds, removed shrapnel, some of which appeared to be pink and purple crystal shards. They were razor sharp and still burrowing when we removed them. He had partial atelectasis..." She paused, seeing Jane's blank expression.

"A partially collapsed lung, I mean," she said before continuing. "But not a single broken bone. Not even a stress fracture. But there's more in the file on that."

"I'm not surprised so far."

"Well you may be surprised to know that he initially refused to be put under so a good portion of the surgery he was awake for. He didn't make a sound. While I appreciate the rarity of a soldier who is actually as tough as many like to think themselves, I had Mordin distract him and I snuck anesthetic into his IV. After that, we closed him up and started digging deeper. We had to open him up a few more times, as it turned out."

"Good God..."

"Indeed. He had a torn Achilles tendon, a sprained ankle, two torn ACLs in both knees with a torn meniscus and ruptured patellar tendon on his left. Detached kneecap," she said noting Jane's eyes glaze over. "I'll try to use simple terminology. A gash across his right thigh that missed the femoral artery but did cut through a sizable portion of muscle tissue. Also a pulled groin, hernia, and abdominal blunt force trauma. High impact, possibly a repeated injury, which lead to some of the internal bleeding. Renal trauma to his left kidney, damage and swelling of his lower spine soft tissues. Damage along his right shoulder that suggests it was dislocated and then relocated... Poorly. Probably by himself. Also a severe burn that we found went from one side of his shoulder all the way through to the other between shoulder and socket. Same dislocation and poor resetting of four different fingers along varying joints, and a thumb. Also, a concussion. I'm sure you saw the ruptured blood vessel in his eye. The repeated trauma to his head may have caused it. He's lucky he didn't have any brain swelling. And he seems to have bit his tongue at some point, if that counts for anything. He was also in a high state of catabolism and sleep deprivation. I'd estimate he's roughly 25 to 30 pounds underweight and he doesn't have the fat on him to have lost it in any healthy capacity. His electrolytes, hydration level, vitamins and nutrients were also deficient. Blood sugar was low and ketones were in very high concentrations in his blood tests. Hormone panels were what I expect may be normal for him. Testosterone was at 1400 nanograms per deciliter, which is high. Growth hormone was 19 nanograms per milliliter, which is almost double the high end of normal. He was hypotensive at 92 systolic and 65 diastolic, but given the rest of my findings, it's not surprising. He's got an IV correcting all of the above, minus the hormones.

Jane just stared. "Fuck me," she said finally. "I didn't understand all of that but the gist of it is, I assume, it's surprising he's alive. Let alone functional."

"I've seen enhancements before across many levels. Even among civilians, engineering of one form or another is very common. More so for Alliance Military. And I thought I'd seen the pinnacle of it when I examined you after Cerberus revived you..." She trailed off. Jane couldn't tell why. Either the memory of losing her or perhaps whatever the Doctor was about to say next.

"Doctor?"

"He has cuts, bruising, and additional minor injuries. But after a few scans, it became apparent that there was much more to the young man. He's enhanced to a degree and with methodology I have never seen and, frankly, did not know existed. His genetic pattern is as close to flawless as I've ever seen but with no indicators of genetic alterations. I believe his changes were chemically induced. They changed him on the molecular level but left his genetic code intact. The lack of surgical scars points to this, at least, but he does have some that appear surgical in nature. These chemicals induced mechanical and biological changes."

Jane held up a hand. The folder on her lap now lay closed.

"Thank you, Doctor. But... I think I'd rather hear all of this from him. Just tell me if he's okay."

Chakwas stopped, knowing the Commander well enough to let it go but unable to.

"Commander, if what I found and what I suspect is any indication, he'll never tell you."

"I can be very persuasive, Doc."

Chakwas rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure, Commander. Ask him while wearing that and I'm sure he'd tell you anything" she said gesturing again at Shepard's ensemble.

Now getting annoyed, Jane glared.

"Try to stay focused, Doctor. I don't often betray people's trust. Especially this crew. And that includes you," she added pointedly.

"As you wish. Physically, he's fine. His metabolic rate is unusually high. Enough to increase his base temperature by almost a half degree Celsius. He reacted to the MediGel quite readily. He began healing even before I came up. He'll be in fighting shape in no time."

"Thanks, Doctor."

"Indeed. Do with that information what you will.

"Thank you for the visit and your discretion."

"Of course, Commander," she said standing. "He should be awake within a couple of hours. Maybe give or take 30 minutes. I found it difficult to adjust for his BMI and metabolic rate."

The doctor turned and made to leave. She had moved up the stairs, pressed the elevator button but stopped. She turned and strode back into view, standing on the bottom step.

"Commander... There is information in that folder that may warrant a look. Particularly regarding his potential psyche. It's only conjecture at this point but his physiology would suggest something... Possibly very disturbing."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jane said, trying not to seem suddenly interested. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes, just one thing. When you leave this room, I'd suggest changing clothes unless you're trying a new method of motivating the crew."

Jane blanched but the doctor was already in the elevator.

"Goddammit!" Jane yelled.

Shepard eyed the folder on her lap. She couldn't deny she was curious. She was there on the receiving end of that monster alien and Six had mangled it with seeming ease and now she knew the extent of his wounds at the time. Shepard had her answers dropped into her lap. Answers this easy never happened and certainly not so literally. She thumbed the pages but didn't flip it open. She finally stood and tossed it on the table.

She'd get him to talk. Eventually.

But first, she needed to change.

Six's eyes snapped open and he sat upright, heart hammering in his chest. Now on full alert, he quickly took stock of his surroundings, recognizing the medical bay aboard the Normandy. He felt groggy but otherwise okay. Had he passed out during surgery? No, he knew the feeling of fading anesthetic. He hadn't known many medical personnel as devious as this Chakwas had proven to be.

He shook his head and squinted his eyes, their enhanced vision flooded with too much light. Zaeed was snoring behind the curtain to his left. After ensuring that he was otherwise alone, he did a quick self-assessment. Starting from his toes and ending in his face, he flexed and tested every muscle and joint. He wasn't at his best but he was miles better than he had been in the last day or so. He turned and placed his feet on the ground, removing the hospital gown he had been placed in that left him in some sort of undergarment. He began performing a physical examination. This was all reflex to him. Ready anywhere, under all circumstances. He noted that his armor was in precisely the same position he had removed it in. Moving to his examination, he traced the new scars and bandages. Again, not perfect but his body was serviceable. He was surprised at how quickly his wounds seemed to have closed.

He moved to the armor, doing a quick field diagnostic. Power was maybe 12%. The fusion generator was damaged but still well shielded. His shield generators didn't have enough juice now to operate, and he doubted if the force multipliers would help his strength or speed. The undersuit was compromised in several places, including full puncture in some areas and leakage of the gel layer. He doubted it would hold under hard vacuum much less prove effective in any tactical sense. The Titanium A composite plating was also in bad shape. The Mjolnir MK V was an amazing set of technology but after weeks of continuous use under the most extreme circumstances, it had reached its limit. He was accustomed to it by now but he was far from helpless without it. He could adjust. Many of his missions before Noble had been in a MK V but many had also been with SPI armor or even without it altogether.

He stood up and instead moved to stretching. He pushed but didn't overdo it, aware of his limitations, learning where his weaknesses were in his current state. Everything was sore but soon he could feel himself loosen. Within another 10 minutes he felt fit and mission ready.

With practiced eyes, he scanned the room. Two doors, a blocked off window. Only one of those doors guaranteed exit. Reciting what he knew, he counted exactly how many steps it took to reach the Pelican from here. He knew how many crew members were likely between here and there and which ones were armed. He saw several trays, sharp implements, and blunt instruments he could improvise with if he had to. There was always the knife still left on his armor. Second door, unknown. He was right next to it and gave it a try. Locked. AI could possibly reduce his chances of hard escape. Too many variables.

He sighed, giving his armor a closer inspection. It was cooked. No doubt about it. He was tempted to feel a sense of loss but quickly suppressed the idea. Instead he stood and spied something on the counter. It was a box. It was white with green accents and streaks and said Aldrin Labs in the top left and Bluewire Tool underneath that. Scribbled across the top was "For Six." No indication of who it was from but the script, handwritten, appeared perhaps feminine in origin. Best bet was Shepard. He opened it carefully, removing wrappers and sealant. There were various wires, an instruction booklet, a small, octagonal disk, and a bracelet with a heavy duty clasp that looked as if the octagonal chip could be placed in it. He did just that, and put the bracelet on, examining it. He caught a glint in a nearby waste bin and saw another omnitool in a plastic bag discarded there. There was a small tab hanging off of the disk and Six pulled. He heard a high frequency whine as whatever technology was enclosed spooled up. His arm was suddenly encased in an orange graphic of some kind. It was like a gauntlet with two orange circles at the end. It began displaying information. It read like it was acclimating, initializing. He picked up the instruction book and flipped through it quickly. It was a computer, hacking tool, extranet explorer, among a few other things. He quickly set up the instrument to his impulses and smiled when a blade appeared out of nowhere on it. He tested it, sharp as the knife on his armor.

Six looked approvingly at the bracelet through the orange light. Interacting with it further, he connected to the ship he was on and found an external series of networks. He scrolled and found endless information. News, politics, economics, science, current events, social mediums... The extranet, he assumed.

On his readout he saw communication options as well. His tool was beginning to connect with other tools. He went dark, setting his new tool to be invisible to other tools. Miranda Lawson appeared first and was already showing connected to his device. After that Commander Jane Shepard, Garrus Vakarian, Zaeed Massani (who appeared as 'unavailable'), Dr. Mordin Solus, Dr. Karin Chakwas, Jack (no last name), Jeff Moreau, Jacob Taylor, Kasumi Goto, Yeoman Kelly Chambers, and a laundry list of other various crew members he assumed. He switched off his communication function and instead settled on searching the extranet for all of the names listed above. It asked for an ID before moving forward. He tried "Six" but it was taken, same with "B312." After trying different combinations, it finally accepted "LTB312SIX." It then asked how he would like to be identified and this time, it accepted "Six."

He started by taking a cue from Zaeed. He pulled up Commander Jane Shepard. Military family, moved around as a child. Joined the Alliance Navy, took part in the Skyllian Blitz. She was the sole survivor of something called a thresher maw, an N7 special forces with an impressive history and knack for the impossible. He scrolled through every detail he could find until he had a clear picture of who he was dealing with. He was surprised that so much information was available on her but then she was also famous. And not all of it for good reason.

He sat back down on the medical bed and got to work. Basic intelligence at its most simplistic. Shepard led to Reapers, potential cover ups, the Citadel invasion, Citadel races, Turian's and Garrus, Salarians and Mordin, Shepard's very public death, Cerberus, Jeff "Joker" Moreau, Chakwas, Alliance Military, the list went on. He found almost nothing on Miranda. The more he read, the more a sinking feeling spread across his chest and he felt ice water in his veins. This was too elaborate, too broad. There was just no chance he was this far into some outer colony outside of UNSC controlled space.

"Keep an open mind," Halsey had said. How much of this could she have known about?

He froze when he came across entries for Earth. He read page after page of names he'd never heard, faces he'd never seen, government entities that didn't exist. Not one mention of the UEG, the UNSC, or the Covenant. Just more nonsense about element zero, mass relays, biotics, and Citadel controlled space. When he looked for Reach, there was no mention. Even the year, 2185, made no sense.

He spent the next hour memorizing everything he could about the Alliance. If nothing else, knowledge was one of those things that was better to have and not need, than need and not have. And he might need a cover. After that he moved to different races. Culture, history, physiology, technology, government structure, military capabilities, and psychology. He then moved to potential hostiles. Krogan, Rachni, Geth, and Reapers. The first three had endless information. But the Reapers, especially in connection with Shepard, seemed to elude him. He found scraps of information on forums, conspiracy theories, and the rumors of Collectors.

He didn't know when he had stopped. But he now stared at the wall trying to understand all he'd seen. He couldn't reconcile the two realities he seemed to be stuck between. He blinked hard and reopened his eyes, years and years of discipline kicking in. His position didn't matter. His worries didn't matter. His mission mattered. Get the information Halsey had given him to the UNSC. He'd been hardwired at this point to put himself aside and focus on the mission. It had worked since his first days on Onyx. It would work here. He suppressed his thoughts and feelings for the trillionth time and focused on trying to find the UNSC.

Only trouble with that; it didn't seem to exist. And he couldn't be sure this hadn't been Halsey's doing from the onset. His suppressed mind and emotions began to bleed through the cracks.

Taking action would solve that. Always had.

"It was EDI, was it?"

A familiar disembodied voice greeted him. "Correct, Six. EDI is an acronym for Enhanced Defense Intelligence. I am the Normandy's virtual intelligence.'

"Not artificial intelligence?"

"Also correct. I am not self-aware and unable to self-correct my base programming. AI's are outlawed by Citadel Law."

He raised his eyebrow but kept his thoughts to himself.

"What is my status," he asked. "Am I a prisoner?"

"No, Six. I was told to inform certain crew when you had awoken. However, you are free to move about the ship as you see fit."

Ignoring the comment about "certain crew" he tried another approach. "Where can I find clothes?"

"A uniform approximating your dimensions is in the far right cupboard above the counter."

"Where can I find a razor?"

"You'll find hygiene gear next to the clothing."

"Showers."

"I'll mark them on your Omnitool."

He rose and found the garments, quickly putting them on. They were a bit snug but otherwise would work fine. White, gray, and black color scheme, rolled sleeves, cargo pants, and boots worked fine for him.

"Now that you are dressed, Commander Shepard has requested your presence."

"Understood. Tell her I need a shower first. I'll meet with her within the hour."

"Shepard has agreed. She will meet you in the briefing room in one hour."

"How do I get there? And the showers."

"You are currently on the third deck. I'll mark both on your omnitool."

He walked over to his armor and pulled the combat knife off of it. He checked the blade. Still razor sharp and covered in Elite blood. He sheathed it, then attached it to his back through the belt. He checked the other pouches on the MK V. His ammo and weapons had been taken. Likely there was an armory on-board. Unforeseen but not unexpected. When he checked the pouch he had placed the chip in, it was still there. He quickly jammed it into a cargo pocket. He moved to another pouch and after half a minute of checking rechecking every pouch, realized the data chip from his helmet on Reach was missing. He hoped it was in the armory somehow. He remembered the woman bumping into him on the way out of the medbay. Miranda, he thought. He'd have to rectify that. ONI's information was something he'd been sent on entire missions to protect... and kill for. It was no different here no matter where "here" was.

He moved silently past Zaeed's sleeping form, and exited the med bay. The long elevator ride gave him all the time he'd need. Every crew member he saw openly stared. Other Spartans seemed used to it but he never had been. His assignments until Noble had been strictly solo and he found himself uncomfortable with attention. He felt twitchy. He did his best to ignore the stares but it was beginning to get under his skin. He was meant for enemy lines, not the rear.

He had his back story pieced together by the time he found the shower. If there was one thing he could count on, it was the military being the same no matter where he was. At least... He hoped so. He had crafted a believable enough story to explain his circumstances. Shepard may be a competent soldier, but she wouldn't be able to read through his lies. He hoped so, at least.

He scrubbed every painful inch of himself, watching the grime and mixed blood wash off. He had opened the bag and found something called "omniwash" that seemed to serve all functions of hygiene. He used it to scrub gunk, wash his hair, and prep his head and face for a close shave. When he had finished, he exited the shower and begun drying off.

He looked himself over in the mirror. He remembered the story behind every scar, burn, bruise, and blemish but he had no personal feelings over his aesthetic. Like his self-diagnostic in the med bay, he was performing a perfunctory examination of his well-being. He had lost weight and not in a healthy way. His hardened physique was less built than it had been when he started on Reach but he was still fast, still sharp, and his reflexes seemed fine. It wouldn't take long for the rest of him to fill in. He felt the noise building in his head when he thought about Reach, Noble Team, everyone else that fell. He pushed them aside as quickly as they cropped up, even as he tasted the ash from the planet's dead surface. That had been less than 24 hours ago.

'Focus,' he thought.

He examined the damage on himself. He'd removed the bandages and was surprised that his wounds had mostly closed, even compared to when he was in the med bay. No stitches or biofoam. Must be some interesting tech. He was lean and densely built, though less so than before. All sinew, definition, and vascularity. He'd need to exercise and eat again. A good soldier lacked no part of fitness. They should be exactly equal parts strength, speed, flexibility, and endurance. He saw a patch of hair on his face he'd missed. In a blink, he was back on the Covenant ship, Jorge holding him over the edge. He knew he was aboard the Normandy but it was like his own mind and body were living it all over again. Adrenaline flooded into his system and his heart rate more than doubled to roughly 70 bpm. He was sweating and shaking.

"So it's like that is it?"

"Reach has been good to me."

"Don't deny me this."

"Tell 'em to make it count."

Memories he suddenly couldn't force back flooded him from the last few weeks. They replayed at blinding speed and he could feel his nervous system respond as if it was happening to him in real time.

'What is this,' he thought as he tried to get a grip.

As suddenly as it had started, it was over. The thoughts suddenly became suppressible once again and he was alone in the bathroom. He looked unsteadily at himself in the mirror, unsure what to make of the experience. His hands shook until he brought them back under his control. He brought the razor up and shaved off the patch of hair he had missed. He could still feel the physical effects of whatever had just happened. It disturbed him that it had happened at all. Checking to make sure the door was locked, he numbly put the clothes on then sat on the floor.

If he had an hour before having to meet Shepard, he was going to take the whole hour. He had never experienced anything like that before. He wasn't rattled or frayed anymore, so far as he could tell. It had come and gone. He was back, more or less. He just needed to stay busy, keep moving forward. But for now, he was happy sitting against the bulkhead, ensuring whatever had overtaken him was finished. He'd need to be okay to get home.

That was his only goal now; do whatever he needed to do to get home. They needed every soldier they could get.

He'd have to be more disciplined in future.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes

Still having a blast! Thank you so much for the input. Hopefully everything improves as long as I have fellow fanfic enthusiasts helping me out.

A warning; we are approaching the end of what I had already written. Means longer spaces of time before I post new chapters. Sorry!

/

Chapter 4 - New Horizons, Familiar Territory

/

"These children will have guidance. They will have discipline. And they have one thing no ordinary children have, not even the SPARTAN-II candidates. Motivation."

-Spartan II Kurt Ambrose (Kurt-051), conversation about training the Spartan III's

/

Shepard had donned the Cerberus equivalent of an officer's dress uniform. Chakwas' comments had really gotten to her. She had turned her armor in to Jacob for repair already, finding the armory tech was trying in vain to repair Garrus' sniper rifle. Jacob had sounded confident, but as Jane looked over the wreckage, she was pretty sure it would be more effective as a club at this point.

She'd also double-checked with EDI to make sure no one had touched Six's armor and no one had attempted to enter his ship. She was about to bombard the man with questions. The least she could do was make sure she held up her end of the deal. She approached the briefing room but Kelly stopped her.

"Commander, I heard about what happened. Are you alright?" she asked.

Say what you want about Cerberus or Kelly, but if she was anything, she was sincere.

"I'm fine, Kelly. Thank you for asking. I'd be happy to let you poke around my head about it but I've got a meeting with Six and I'm already late."

"Of course, Commander. Happy to serve... But speaking of Six, I was wondering," she began.

Not surprising that Kelly would be interested. He was new and Kelly was a curious thing. Jane had to admit that she wouldn't mind knowing more about him too, since he was currently hitching a ride.

Shepard crossed her arms and tried to keep a straight face. 'I bet you wondered,' she thought.

"What's up, Kelly?"

"What's his name?"

"He's going by Six for now. His choice."

"I see. He seemed out of sorts when I saw him. I do hope if he ends up joining us, I'll get the chance to do an evaluation on him."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd hope. I'll send him right to you if he joins us but... I'm not so sure just yet. Out of sorts?"

"Thank you, Commander. Yes. I'm sure it's only the new environment and new people but I worry it may be more. Do you know anything of his history? Nevermind! Sorry, now isn't the time. He's already waiting for you," she said before lowering her voice. "Did you see those eyes," she whispered conspiratorially.

Yes she had. They were one of the first things you noticed when looking at him. Shepard smiled at her Yeoman. She couldn't help it. She was adorable.

"Thank you, Kelly. I think I'd better go see him," she said, finalizing the conversation.

"Of course, Commander," she responded turning red.

Shepard turned and headed straight for the large conference room. She spied Six already seated through the glass. She took a deep breath before opening the door. The door slid ajar and he stood at attention. Shepard cocked an eyebrow. She half expected him to yell "officer on deck!"

"At ease," she said and moved past him to sit at the head of the table. He had chosen the chair to her left but was standing behind it. He stood at ease in the military sense.

"I meant you could sit down, Six."

"Yes, Commander," he responded and seated himself. Even seated, he was ramrod straight. His back never touched the chair and his posture was perfect. She quickly looked him up and down. Freshly shaved face and head was a good look for him. His carved features were even more striking now and she couldn't help but wonder how noble Kelly's intentions were for that evaluation.

She was struck once again by how incredibly young he looked. She saw a scar across his chin, another that disappeared into his right eyebrow from his forehead, and a slender burn that went from the left side of his head straight down past his ear and onto his neck. She noted the freshly closed gash on top of his head he'd had when in the med bay. Young but with so many scars. His face had filled in some but his features had lost none of their sharpness. The uniform was a bit tight across his chest, shoulders, and arms but otherwise suited him. She noted the varied and numerous scars along his hands, fingers, and forearms. When Shepard looked up, she got caught in his stare again if only for a moment. In the lighting he sat in, they looked an almost luminescent sapphire. All semblance of "young" shattered when you saw those eyes. He suddenly seemed much, much older.

"Is this conversation private?"

He had caught her off guard now but she was intrigued. She nodded.

"What have you got, Six?"

"Lieutenant, actually," he corrected. Shepard's eyes widened a little but she had an idea where this was going. He was good, but he was overplaying the friendliness.

"I might have guessed you were some kind of military. I know my own kind. Lieutenant who, exactly?"

All of his studying, the reading, the research from his omnitool. He had constructed an identity that wouldn't draw too many questions and left no loose ends. It wasn't perfect, but posing as Alliance intelligence was his only shot. At least for now. It gave him the opportunity to keep to himself, make requests, and hopefully open the crew up to some questions. Shepard was former N7, connections in the Navy and Marine Corps. She'd have significantly less knowledge of intelligence operations, minus ground ops, which gave Six just enough wiggle room to adlib an identity. He opened his mouth to proceed but was stopped.

"You're about to lie to me," the Commander said simply.

Six had to consciously close his mouth but even he couldn't hide his surprise and dismay.

"My suggestion is don't. I can tell you're probably trained and I can tell you're probably very good. But if you lie to me, this won't work. So this is your one chance to fix this conversation BEFORE you screw it up."

Caught entirely off balance now, he believed her. She was far from a fool. He'd underestimated this one. Well, there went that plan. He tried to piece together an alternative story in his enhanced, hyper-tactical mind. Before he could form a Plan B she leaned forward and drew his full attention to her. Her face was soft, eyes sincere.

"Six, I'm not your enemy. I'm not trying to trip you up. I'm not trying to sabotage your stay here. I'm only trying to look out for my crew and find out more about you. Look, that was some wild shit on a ship no one had ever seen before, with aliens no one had heard of. You're human, but... I already know there's a whole other story there. Probably very long and something you're not up for just yet. That's fine. Most of the people on this ship aren't gleaming examples of benevolence. But an unknown enemy is not something I need you to lie about. If you know of some danger out there, I'd like to have a heads up. Can you tell me what happened?"

He hesitated. She saw him struggling behind that unreadable face.

"I... Don't know," he finally said, haltingly.

Jane actually felt for him now. He was completely out of his element and clearly uncomfortable.

"Well, let's start with something simple. That ship we found you on and the aliens. Is that something I need to worry about?"

"No," he replied firmly enough to convince Jane he at least thought he was being honest. "Not as far as I can tell. They don't do subterfuge. If there was a problem, you would know."

'Not one for conversation,' she thought.

"Okay, then. What can you tell me about them? Maybe they're not here now but will be. Maybe they're trying to be sneaky for once. The more we all know, the better off we'll be. Even if it only happens once in a million chances..."

"It only has to happen once," he finished

"Now you're getting it. So, care to share?"

He looked around the room, corner to corner, as if looking for invisible spies and Jane almost chuckled until she reminded herself that she actually had one on board. He leaned forward, hands folded on the table.

"They're called the Covenant, multiple species. If you've never heard of them, consider yourself fortunate. Their religion demands humanity's extinction. They don't negotiate, they don't take prisoners, they don't hesitate. Doesn't matter if civilian or combatant, doesn't matter age or gender. It's wholesale genocide wherever they appear. Sometimes in the millions. They're superior in numbers, technology, destructive power, engineering, every way that matters."

Shepard ruminated on that for a moment. It was a lot to process.

"Are they really that bad?"

"The ship you found me on was a light cruiser. They have carriers spanning almost 30 kilometers with firepower to match. Their most recent conquest was a planet of 700 million, reduced to glass."

He didn't feel up to mentioning that it was the planet he'd just come from. Not yet.

"Glass?" She asked. "Is that jargon of some kind?"

"It's literal. Plasma bombardment. Concentrated orbital fire that superheats a planet's surface. They can vaporize mountains, oceans, and anything in-between. Secondary damage is radiation, debris, ash... Planet-wide nuclear winter," he finished slowly.

He wondered now if that was how they came to the term 'Winter Contingency.' He let his words settle on Jane, who for her part, was having difficulty imagining such a thing. He could sit and explain it for hours but he knew first hand it was an entirely different experience to witness. It hadn't been his first experience with the Covenant, not by a long shot. "Personal Grim Reaper" extended to all targets, all races, any location. Deep behind enemy lines where one false step meant the end was familiar territory. But watching an invasion, a glassing, a genocide in person... It wasn't the same thing and he was finding the whole experience hard to shake. He knew he was above this, he'd be fine. Jane had thought she'd detected a pause or falter toward the end of his explanation but she couldn't be sure. She wondered exactly how much this man had been involved with this conflict. She was pretty sure she wouldn't get him to say much but for a number like 700 million, she needed a bit more. She looked like she felt. Troubled, digesting the idea of an enemy out there like the Covenant.

"But you fought back. And you lived. If they show up, we can fight too."

"We faced opponents who have never known defeat, who laugh in alien tongues at our efforts to survive. Our fights are suicide."

His voice was shaking ever so slightly now.

"Holy shit," she breathed and rubbed her eyes.

"They don't do subterfuge," he repeated slowly.

"You weren't kidding," she said quietly. She wondered if this had been anywhere on the outskirts of known space. It was possible there may be unknown factions but humans being involved didn't entirely fit. There was just no way all of this was happening without the Alliance knowing. And if they had soldiers like this one, she'd have known. There was more at play here, she sensed.

"What planet? What races were there?"

"Epsilon Eridani II. Human world," he said coldly, using it's official designation. He'd already mentioned Reach on the cruiser and that he was coming from there. He didn't want anyone making that connection. ONI S.O.P. (standard operating procedure) in absence of reason or direction, gather information available, reveal none gathered.

She tried to read his face but she may as well have tried to guess the daydreams of granite or the romantic ideations of a Krogan. He revealed nothing.

"That is definitely one of the more disturbing things I've heard. And considering the last few years, that's not a small thing. Where do you fit into all of this exactly? Where are you from? And how did you wind up on one of their ships?"

He didn't know if she would know if he was lying. She had essentially offered her hand at the onset of their meeting. She was clearly intelligent and from what he'd seen, she was a good leader; a good person. He felt small pull to tell her everything he knew. But his discipline denied the option. He played it close to the chest. Not lying, but not giving away anything valuable either.

"Soldier. Front lines. And I'm not from anywhere your Extranet seems to have heard of. You're not the only one with questions and no answers, Commander. I'm beginning to think I'm not anywhere close to home... I don't think my home ever even existed here."

"That made as much sense as anything else the last six hours. Care to elaborate?"

He hesitated, ONI S.O.P. ringing in his ears. But ONI wasn't here. No one was. He truly was on his own.

"Earth to Six," she teased.

"I know Earth," he said slowly. "I wasn't born there but I've been there. I know about the history of humanity. Rome, the world wars, going to space in 1969," he trailed off.

She looked at him expectantly, hoping he would start making sense soon.

"But nothing else. I've never heard of the Citadel, any of it's races. I've never heard of element zero, mass effect fields, or biotics. Your first contact war was three months against the Turians trying to enforce laws and it lasted months. Ours was the Covenant for almost three decades now who fight only for our extinction. I don't remember much about the trip. I've been in slipspace many times but this trip was something else. One minute I'm there, the next I'm here. I don't know your Alliance Navy and you don't know my UNSC. I really don't know what else to think."

She looked at him skeptically. This had to be a prank or someone's idea of an elaborate but poorly imagined joke.

"I'm sorry, it's been a long day. You're going to have to do better than that."

"If I had a better explanation, I'd be sharing it."

She was spinning now, trying to even comprehend possibilities. It seemed impossible, even for her. But evidence seemed to lean that way, improbable as it seemed. Whether he was lying or not, she didn't know, by she was convinced she wasn't going to get any further answers about it today.

"Okay, moving on for now. What exactly is slip space?"

"As I understand it, it's a place between dimensions. Time and space don't count. Wrapped in a quantum field, a ship can pass through unaffected and reach FTL. It's the only way to achieve it."

"Wait... But without element zero it's impossible," she said flatly.

"No. Element zero allowed you to reach FTL capability faster. It's what everything here is based on, right? Without it, the rest of us out there had to find our own way."

"You realize there's a whole series of questions around all of that," she said finally. "And there's also some questions about planets, organizations, and wars no one has ever heard of, right?"

"I don't know how to respond to that."

"Even if you did, I'm betting it would be brief," she said.

The conversation lulled. Six was trying to get a read on her reaction and Shepard wasn't sure how to react.

"Anything else?" She asked sarcastically.

Six shifted his gaze and folded his hands in front of him on the table once more. "I don't think so," he said quietly.

"So... Where does all of this leave you and me?"

"Here is what I can tell you... I'm not your enemy either. I'm a soldier. A good one. But right now, I'm a little short on missions."

'And answers,' she thought. She leaned back, arms crossed and unconsciously chewed on her bottom lip. He stared into her and waited but she wasn't finished just yet.

"Alright, Six. I can't even begin to tell you..."

"I can help you," he interrupted.

'Well then,' she thought. She was off-balance now but her natural curiosity got the better of her.

"How do you figure?"

"I've read about you. Special forces, first human Spectre, the battle on the Citadel, and the ambush that killed you. Dead, but here you sit. You have a ship. You've assembled a dangerous crew. You're up to something."

She smiled a little. 'Well played, Six,' she thought.

"I might be."

"I know you're chasing the Reapers and I know a cover-up when I see one. Cerberus is by all accounts some terrorist cell but promoting human interests isn't something I see as bad. You needed resources and Cerberus was the only one offering."

She maintained her smile. He was smart, she'd give him that. How much reading had he been doing? He was clearly able to put pieces together quickly. Sorely lacking in social skills, maybe, but...

"And you think I could put you to use? And that if I do, I'll just forget all the crazy you just coughed up?"

It was his turn to smirk now, surprising her that his face had moved at all.

"Forget? No. But between yourself and your crew, maybe even Cerberus, I might get some answers for you. I help you, you help me."

"You're really going to push this whole mysterious thing to the limit aren't you."

Six shrugged but didn't respond.

"Okay, let's try an exercise. What's your name?"

A long three seconds passed. She held her breath.

"Six," he said.

She scrunched up her face and rubbed her temples, clearly annoyed.

"Dammit... Well, it was worth a shot. At least I got Lieutenant out of you. Was that part real, by the way?"

He nodded. "Lieutenant was accurate."

"I'm fine with it while you're on my ship. But you know, you're going to have to learn to trust us. To trust me. And you're going to have to earn our trust in you. You've heard of trust where you're from, right?"

He nodded but Jane wasn't convinced he understood what that meant. Maybe he'd learn. She hoped he would. She stared him down for just a bit longer but she'd made her decision. In a small part she wanted to know exactly everything he wasn't telling or didn't know. Maybe he was right. Maybe they could find answers together.

"Alright then. We probably have another mission coming up. Cerberus' leader, The Illusive Man, he calls himself, will no doubt give us something to do soon. We move quickly here. You'll get your chance to prove yourself then. You look pretty fresh right now but we were pulling shards out of you just a few hours ago. And..." She paused. "God knows what else you've been through before that. I need to know; are you... Okay?"

His response was immediate. Almost reflexive. "I'm mission capable."

"Good God, who talks like that? That's great to hear, Six, but not what I asked."

She caught just a glimpse of him then. Like back on the covenant ship, like just a few moments ago. She watched him struggle with the question. She couldn't place the exact thoughts behind those eyes. It was a tenth of a second, maybe worry, turmoil, or even guilt. And then it was gone so fast, she wasn't so sure she'd seen anything at all.

"I'm fine."

Shepard chewed on her lower lip again. She wasn't buying it but she'd let him have it for now.

"Well then. Welcome to the team, Six," she said and stood, extending her hand. He stood and shook it, surprised at the strength of her grip. "If you're serious about joining us, I expect you at the next briefing. And visit the armory. I'm sure we can find you something. With her left hand, she pulled out a thick file and handed it to him.

"What's this?" He asked as he took it.

"Call it trust," she replied.

Six thumbed it open and read over his own medical report. It was VERY thorough. ONI would have had an aneurysm if they'd known this was floating around. He read the words "potential brainwashing," "indoctrinated," "augmentations," and "prepubescent" in the same paragraph. His examination had been very thorough indeed. He now knew Chakwas knew too much. Miranda may very well be in the same position. Now he had two people to sort out. It was one thing to talk about the Covenant since they were a known element. Well, they were yesterday. But classified information was another matter.

"It's the only copy, as requested," the Commander continued. "No electronic record exists. And no, I didn't read it, before you ask. I was only appraised of the medical procedures performed here on the Normandy. You can trust the good doctor not to say a word. But I'd hide or destroy the file if I were you. I know we're supposed to build trust and all but if your ass goes down, I can't promise I won't use it to try and piece you back together."

He didn't smile, not really. Only his impossibly blue eyes seemed to shine a little more brightly. It would have to do for now.

"I won't go down," he said.

"I'll get a proper smile out of you yet, Six," she threatened. "And a name. Maybe even a joke. Hopefully I'll get an answer right now for something that's been bugging me. I wanted to ask about your helmet. Why was that stuff written on there?"

"Written there?" he asked, confused.

She furrowed her brow. Maybe she wouldn't get an answer after all. "On the back of your helmet. There was that writing."

"Writing?"

Now she was confused. "It said "situation," then an equals sign, then "hopeless" on the back. Was that like a unit thing?"

He looked at the table, visibly disturbed at her question. He seemed to ponder it for several seconds. His features resumed a neutral expression and he turned and nodded to her.

"Excuse me, Commander," was all he said.

She watched him rise, amazed again at just how huge he really was. He collected the folder and exited the briefing room, doors hissing behind him.

"Something I said?" she asked quietly, shrugging exasperatedly.

Shepard rose from her chair and headed for the door. Instead of exiting, she locked it before turning back to face the room.

"Now comes the tricky part," she said.

She pressed a button and the table lowered into the floor. An orange laser grid flashed on, reading her shape. An orange projection of a middle aged man in a chair appeared. He took a drag on a cigarette and exhaled.

"Hey, Smokey Joe. How's tricks? Don't get up."

As usual, he ignored her initial barb and pressed forward.

"Shepard, I think we have them," he said. "Horizon, one of our colonies in the Terminus System, just went silent. If it isn't under attack, it soon will be. Has Mordin delivered the countermeasure for the Seeker Swarms?"

"Not yet. We were sidetracked."

"So I've heard but we'll talk about your new guest later. Let's hope Mordin works well under pressure. There's something else you should know," he said. He paused and took another long drag. She was always puzzled about the cigarettes. Who smoked these days? And where did he even get them?

"One of your former crew, Ashley Williams. She's stationed on Horizon."

That struck Shepard deeper than she wanted it to. Ashley had been there for the hard times and they had been close. Jane kicked herself for not reaching out to her old friend but with everything, Cerberus, her death, the Collectors...

"Last I knew, Ash was Alliance. What is she doing out in the Terminus Systems?"

"Officially? It's an outreach program to improve Alliance relations with the colonies but they're up to something. And if they sent Chief Williams, it must be big. Perhaps you should take it up with her."

Jane didn't like hearing Ash's name coming from his mouth. Even less so when it sounded like he was implying something. She'd find out who he really was someday. But right now, she found the implications of Ashley's presence disturbing.

"The collectors just happened to pick a colony with my former crew... I don't buy it."

"It shouldn't be a surprise the Collectors are interested in you. Especially if they're working for the Reapers," he added. Almost too quickly. "They might be going after her to get to you."

Jane weighed her options quickly. She could get there faster than anyone else. She'd never admit that dying at the Collector's hands had shake her. Shepard wasn't looking forward to meeting up with them again but she'd never shied away from a fight either. But she had another option…

"We should send a message to the Citadel. The Alliance can give us reinforcements."

"Not until you investigate. I don't want the Alliance getting in our way. Once you have the situation under control, I'll send the message personally."

'Could have guessed that response,' she thought.

"Send the coordinates. We'll head straight there."

"This is the most warning we've ever had, Shepard. Good luck."

And he was gone.

"Joker, set a course for Horizon. I've gotta go see the Professor."

"Aye, aye, Commander."

/

Six practically ran for the elevator and hit the button. He didn't even wait for the door to fully open before he climbed in. Someone tried to enter with him but he staed down the unfortunate crew member who tried. She had taken one look at him and, wide-eyed, simply turned around and walked away.

"Six?" he heard an unfamiliar voice ask.

Locating the source of his name, he saw the same redhead he'd seen on his way to the briefing room standing at a panel next to a holographic map of the galaxy. The Yeoman, he'd assumed. He watched her stare at him as the doors closed but said nothing.

He had a million questions running through his mind alongside everything he remembered Halsey saying before he wound up here. His heart was hammering in his chest, fists clenched. This didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.

When the doors opened into the shuttle bay he was out before the door even opened all the way and power walking to the pelican. He whipped around to the back hatch and punched the release button, again, hopping through before it opened all the way. He unstrapped the boxes and lined them up. They were numbered 1-4. He tried to open the first one but the lock wouldn't budge. Frustrated, he pulled out his knife and put it into the mechanism. He pulled with every ounce of strength he had until the entire mechanism was pried off of the box, lock still intact.. With a metallic whine, he wrenched the box open. It was covered in some kind of padded overlay, hiding it's contents. But there, on top of the padding, was a metal clipboard. It was the kind that opened but clipped to the top was a folded piece of paper with "Lieutenant" scrawled across the top.

He swallowed hard and picked it up, pulling it off the clipboard. He unfolded it and read the scratchy writing.

_Lieutenant,_

_I'm sorry I wasn't more forthcoming. I saw an opportunity, maybe the only one I would get, and I took it. I hope I did the right thing but these days, that line is getting harder to see. I don't know as much as I should but I can still help you._

_If you're reading this, you made it. Though, where exactly that might be, I can't be sure. I am only trying to prevent more death. I've trusted ONI no more than they've trusted me. I know that they've made contact with where you are, our family across dimensions, and I know they have been sharing secrets. I know they know what's coming, though I don't know what it's called._

_ONI is playing a dangerous game and I know from experience the true cost of sacrificing few in the name of saving many. But even that distant line is visible to me now. The cost of many isn't worth the potential victory. I've disrupted them as much as I could but I feared it wouldn't be enough._

_Not until you._

_There is a threat out there somewhere. A dangerous, insidious enemy who will stop at nothing to destroy everything. And ONI will bleed those worlds dry and leave them to their fate. What they intend to do after that, I have no idea. I don't even know if you're the only one there now._

_You now have a choice, Spartan. Where does your loyalty lie? Is it to the UNSC? Or are you a shield for all of us, no matter where we may be?_

_What I'm asking for is nothing short of the unthinkable; help them. Do whatever it takes. Do what no one else can._

_Then find us._

_I realize that I may have also sacrificed you for the good of many. I hope someday you can understand why. But I didn't send you with nothing. I sent you more prepared than you may know just yet.._

_And I didn't send you alone._

_-Catherine_

She'd sent him here, confirming his fears that this was some other reality. Maybe a crazy idea at first, he couldn't figure out what else it could be. She'd lied to him, betrayed him. She went on about nonsense, helping people that weren't his against people who were. Why? No mention of how to get back either. There was no UNSC here, no backup, no war to fight, no orders... This was his own personal hell. There was no Reach, not even a memory of it. He flashed back to the moments before their deaths. He was the only one here who knew their names, knew their sacrifice. He was the only one…

He could feel the noise in his head rising. He pushed it down, trying to force his thoughts back in line. He brought every mental force he could martial to bear, trying to slow his heart, calm his nerves, and cool the fire in his chest. He was starting to calm down now, breathing deeply. But he was slowly realizing that something may be wrong with him after all.

'Youre on your own, Noble...'

Suddenly overcome, Six whipped his fist back and threw it with every ounce of power he could muster into the side of the Pelican. Then he did it again. He brought his breathing back under control and, with great difficulty, resumed his self-control. He looked at his hand. It was cut up and bruised but he barely registered the pain.

Six closed the box and sat on it, not knowing what else to do. He had a good idea what she'd sent him with in those boxes. He had the tools now, he figured, but he didn't feel overly compelled to use any of them. It was one thing to wonder, quite another to have his suspicions so bluntly confirmed. The note was still in his hand. There was no way back, no instructions, not even a clue how to communicate, or even a hint about his next move. She'd brought up ONI, and while Six wouldn't be caught dead singing their praises, they were still a part of his humanity. Whatever kind of place or time he had landed in, it wasn't his.

He opened the clipboard and found his second surprise. A data crystal chip with an orange hue caught his attention. He gently picked it up and examined it. Unlike the orange chip he'd already had, this one had a very different glow to it. When he looked closely, he could see lines of what looked like electricity firing from one side of the light to the other in countless, intricate, and beautiful patterns. Unsure of what to make of it, but aware of what the last chip had done, he shoved it in his pocket.

He looked silently around the Pelican. No use in sitting here, no matter his thoughts. Sitting still only made it worse. He stood, ducking his head slightly. He needed to take his mind off of things. He tossed the letter behind him into the cockpit and exited using the ramp. He hit the button outside on the last step as it closed. He started pacing the perimeter of the shuttle bay, collecting his thoughts.

After wandering for a bit, he found a makeshift gym. It wasn't much. There were scattered weights, a spot to do pull-ups and dips, a couple of benches, and various bars. He knew at some point he'd have to regain his lost strength but right now he wasn't up for it. He needed space.

'Not that it's easy to come by here,' he thought, casting his eyes to his left for a brief moment, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

He stooped down to pick up a small pin that was used to lock plates onto bars and lightly tossed it into the air a couple times.

"You're good," he said out loud. "I've seen better."

Without looking, he threw the pin to his left where it stopped midair and hovered. From nothing, the shape of a thief took form. Her arm was outstretched, holding the pin pinched between her fingers. She began lightly tossing it and catching it in her palm.

"For a big guy," she said. "You move quietly. How does a soldier know so much about stealth, anyway?"

"Experience," he said flatly.

"Yourself or enemies?" she asked.

He looked at her, expressionless.

"I guess you're really putting effort into the strong and silent type, huh? Suit yourself. I heard your little fit though."

"I don't have anything to say to..." He started but wasn't allowed to finish as she spoke over him.

"I don't need details. And I definitely don't need lies. Hold your secrets. After what I saw on that ship, I don't think I want to know. I did hear you pounding the inside of your ship, however."

He didn't know what to say. He only looked at her, keeping his face impassive and holding his sense of embarrassment back.

"Look, I know Shepard probably offered you a slot on the roster. She's got a soft spot for soldiers and broken things. I don't know what your deal is but there's a few things you should know."

He turned to make his exit. He wasn't interested in talking to anyone right now. Not after what he'd just learned. But she carried on undeterred.

"For instance, no one will care where you came from or even what you did. We all come from a lot of different places. You prove yourself capable, you'll be fine here. Second, Shepard is a lot of things but she's no slouch. That woman works harder than any of us. Honest, too. It's a nice change from a lot of leaders we tend to encounter, wouldn't you agree? Third, and I mean this in a very literal sense... We need all the help we can get, Six. Where we're going is somewhere people don't walk away from and that's just right now. Who knows what comes after that. You're clearly going through something no matter much you try to play it cool. And don't get me started on the running theories of where you're really from because that's a whole other conversation. But I caught the last part of that fight on the bridge. If you can bring that to the table, I'm asking you to think about it. Besides, I get the impression that you may not have anywhere else to go."

He finally pivoted around to look at her. Her last words unsettled him. He couldn't gauge her with that damn hood on. But she hadn't been wrong in her assessment. He didn't like overly-perceptive people. They made him uneasy and Kasumi was more adept than most.

"I can see you trying to get a read on me. Free advice? Not every conversation requires a tactical or psychological analysis. Things are bad out there, Six. I don't know where you land on the whole Reaper thing and the end of existence every 50,000 years but, as unbelievable as it is, they're still out there. They certainly haven't forgotten about us. And the Collectors are all too real."

Kasumi finally dropped the pin and stepped forward, arms crossed, hood pulled low as always.

"I don't know what your deal is. Be mysterious if it makes you feel better. But if there's even a chance you think Shepard might be right about any of this, and there's plenty of evidence to think she is, stick around for a while. If you get any other ideas besides being helpful, crawl in that rust bucket you flew in on and disappear. It's better for everyone that way."

She was beginning to hate those eyes of his. As good as she was with the body language and gestures, he gave her close to nothing. He certainly wasn't afraid of her, at any rate.

"Oh and... Love the jewelry look on you. Very 'bad boy.' But that omnitool works better if it's under the skin."

And she was gone again, leaving Six to consider his thoughts. He checked his omnitool. Six hadn't made up his mind yet what his next move was. Nothing long term, at any rate. He sighed heavily. Halsey had said in the note that she hadn't sent him unprepared. He cast a sidelong glance back at the Pelican. Maybe he didn't know what came next but he had a good idea what was in those boxes. And he was starting to think that something might be better than doing nothing.

He made his way back to the craft and hit the button. With a metallic clang, the ramp touched down. He walked slowly up and there stood his mystery boxes. He found the box labeled number one and pulled it out from the others and opened it. He tossed the clipboard from earlier into the cockpit and pulled the packaging out. Inside the crate was yet another lid. There was a keypad with a thumbprint bioscanner in the bottom right corner. On the left, it said in big, bold letters;

PROPERTY OF THE OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE

PROPRIETARY - FOR TESTING ONLY BY AUTHORIZED USER(S)

AUTHORIZED USER(S) - S-104, LIEUTENANT

UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS WILL RESULT IN CRIMINAL PROSECUTION, IMPRISONMENT AND/OR DEATH

Watershed Division - "Mens est mihi gladium meum"

Prototype - MJOLNIR MK. VI - "Centurion" Field Unit

Seongnam, Korea

If ever there was proof that Halsey had him playing some game of hers, this was the equivalent of a slap in the face. 'If I had armor, I'd give it you' she had said. He brushed his fingers over the keypad, pressing a button. It lit up.

"Please select your code," read across the display.

So no code had been set... Interesting. He thought for a moment, unsure what to enter. Finally he pressed 259 320 266 239 052 312. It asked him to confirm and he reentered the number.

"Biometric? 1 = YES 2 = NO" it read next.

He hit 1 and the display text changed, indicating that it needed 5 examples of the thumb and index finger of each hand. He did so and waited. Smart system, he thought. Using both sets of fingers in case someone lost a hand. It beeped three times and the display went dead.

He pressed a button and it promoted him for his code and fingerprint. He entered both and he heard the muffled sound of machinery whirring to life. It stopped, however, and didn't move.

"Insufficient space. Please move to open area," it read. Exasperated, Six yanked the box from the Pelican, sliding it down the ramp. The last time he had lifted this box on Reach, it had been heavy even with his Mjolnir on. Now, he could really feel the drag of a box that easily came in at 3/4 of a ton if not more. He finally managed to spin it around, open it up, and reenter the code. The whirring came on again but didn't stop this time.

All four walls of the box folded outward, coming to rest on the ground. From there, different components emerged, twisted and folded out. Display screens emerged, a shelf with multiple boxes on it opened, and a series of arms extended. It continued it's expansion until the whirring died. The display screens turned on and he saw a spinning insignia of a bull head and the word

"INITIALIZING."

"Ready..." Finally appeared and Six caught his first glimpse of something that gave him hope since he'd gotten here.

Gleaming in the light of the shuttle bay and held in place by mechanical arms was a semi matte gray, full suit of brand new Mjolnir MK VI armor. On the shelf on the left side were several boxes with labels. In order it read "Inner Skinsuit (2 CT.), Titanium Bodysuit (2 CT, nanocomposite), Hydrostatic Gel (Do no overfill!), Biofoam (10 CT - Cannisters), Manual and BIOS (Copy Install Chip)," and some other maintenance related boxes. The monitors now had readouts of the armor also, but it wasn't all networked yet. He also saw the reactor hadn't been activated.

He pressed the touchscreen option to spool it up and after some muffled thunder could be heard coming from the back piece, it soon quieted down and power level read 100%. The lights along the armor flickered on and there in the center stand, perfectly positioned to be fitted thanks to maneuverable and counterbalanced arms to hold the weight, was a work of art. The armor had tags everywhere, displaying the serial number, part number, and name of each piece. They were meant to be removed by the user. But there in the helmet rack, where the tag should have said "Centurion," there was a different helmet. The tag instead said "Beweglichkeitsrüstungsysteme/ Mjolnir MK. VI, CQB (variant)/ Helmet/ ESSEN, DEUTSCHELAND." He had to admit, it looked remarkably close to the helmet he'd worn on Reach and the color matched the rest of the armor. He reached out and touched it, feeling the smooth, matte, unblemished surface.

Six could see reflected in the muted gold visor his own approving stare.

/

Miranda was leaning as far back as her overpriced chair would allow, staring at the ceiling. She'd compiled every scrap of data she could access. She'd been at it ever since they got back.

Audio, visuals, stills, readouts... She'd finally had everything organized in the proper order even though EDI had failed to properly hack the program they were meant to run on. She had to admit, she was impressed with the level of security on simple helmet camera footage.

Once everything was assembled, she hit play and watched. All of it. Her intent had been to gather intel on their latest crew member and then put that in a report to the Illusive Man along with their trek through the alien ship before it had plunged into a black hole. And, she admitted to herself, knowing more than Shepard always satisfied her. It was a chance to subtly rub the Commander's nose once again into offering passage to someone she knew too little about.

She'd taken copious notes for the first 20 minutes. Names, dates, location names, important details. She'd send the video files also but she knew the Illusive Man preferred his information in text when possible. Adding the files themselves was just her being thorough. But the longer she watched and listened, the less notes she took, the less she thought about Shepard, and before long, she'd forgotten her original intent altogether.

Miranda was a hardened woman. Her entire history had seen to her strength's necessity. She'd had to be strong. She had learned through the years with the things she had seen, the things she had done. She was almost perfect in her apathy. She did not lack any capability or feeling but she was not sentimental, overly caring, or emotionally invested, as a rule. What came across to others as distance, she simply felt as appropriate to ensure her mission success. She wasn't unfeeling, simply aware of a bigger picture and the ability to understand every small role necessary to see it's completion. They were all small pieces in a larger machine; means to an end. And as much as the crew on this ship were her instruments, so too was she an instrument to others. She held no allusions about her place in the universe.

She also believed in the Cerberus mission. She believed wholeheartedly that humanity would need to ensure it's own success. Though Cerberus had gotten more bold over time, and she didn't necessarily agree with every method used, her idealism about human heroism, resilience, and strength under adversity had proven that Cerberus was necessary, perhaps even a necessary evil when required. It was either them or the Alliance, as broken and political as they were. The means justified the ends.

But as she watched this mystery planet on the screen before her fall apart, she watched an unknown faction of humanity at their best. She had witnessed through first-hand eyes the horrors and courage of an invasion by overwhelmingly superior forces and humanity's unblinking defiance. Their defeat had been assured from the onset but they gave as good as they got, spitting in the face of a genocidal alien faction even as they fell. And their defeat had been haunting to behold. But certainly no more haunting than watching the planet turn to glass.

This Noble Team, and these Spartans, were a different breed. They couldn't seem to be stopped, didn't slow down, never compromised, and were full of unconventional surprises. It was more than just the high level of cohesion or the advanced tactics, and the leadership. When they showed up, the entire tide of battle turned. The impossible was their every day normal. They were an unadulterated force of nature, more than flesh and blood. Miranda silently cheered at every victory. And she felt tugs on her conscience every time one of them fell.

Until only Six remained.

His final decision had been a sacrifice. He'd willingly stayed on a fallen, dead planet to cover those trying to escape and he hadn't even hesitated. His actions after that were the work of a man resigned to his death. He engaged scores of aliens directly, all semblance of tactics gone. His helmet was damaged and came off and she watched, even as more of those things surrounded him and he had fallen. He fought them all, screaming his defiance. When he picked up the helmet, camera aimed into his bloodied face, he had presumably pulled the data that she had been viewing and all footage ended there. He'd been resigned to die.

She'd finished a half hour ago. She'd been staring at the ceiling ever since, unsure what to do next. It was that feeling people get when they witness or hear about something so far beyond the scope of their own experiences that they suddenly feel small, their problems seem trivial.

She couldn't quite take her mind off of it.

A knock on her door shook her from her reverie.

"Just a moment!"

She practically leapt out if her chair at the intrusion, quickly clearing her terminal screen, hiding the files, and shoving the chip into a desk drawer. Of course she'd had to request Shepard's presence. She'd almost forgotten entirely.

"Lights at full, EDI," she said.

The lights came up just as the operative sat back down. There was a knock at the door moments later.

"Come in, Commander."

The door slid open but it wasn't the Commander. Six strode in, taking in her office as he moved towards her. She unconsciously pushed her chair back, trying to create space. His eyes shone and reflected the light back at her.

"Six. I must apologize, I wasn't expecting you. Is there something I can help you with?"

Her tone was thankfully poised and even. She certainly didn't feel either. He sat straight as an arrow. His unnaturally blue eyes pierced through her, reading everything.

"Miranda," he said as a greeting before striding up to one of the available chairs and seating himself across from her. The chair groaned under his weight. The silence became heavy. She was about to break it before he spoke.

"You took something from me. I'd like it back"

Her reaction was practiced; mock outrage.

"Excuse me? How dare you. You can't just stroll into my quarters and accuse me of a crime! I don't even know what you lost."

His face remained passive and unreadable. He almost looked bored.

"Let's skip the theatre," he said. "I want it back."

She knew what he was capable of. She'd just finished watching him slaughter frightening creatures in droves with cold precision. But this wasn't her first time in this position with a threatening person. Far from it. She would not be so easily swayed.

"Six, listen to me. I have no idea what you're referring to. I took nothing from you and I do not appreciate being accused so casually."

"Maybe Shepard could help me find it," he countered.

Miranda paused at that. He was clever. Leveraging her and Shepard's dislike for each other. There was a small chance Shepard would believe him and the Cerberus agent couldn't be sure how the Commander may respond. He waited patiently while she thought it through.

"Maybe she could. What exactly are you looking for?"

"Data chip, black, small."

"And what's on this data chip?"

Now it was Six's turn to shift in his seat. "Classified," he finally responded. "But if someone were to see what's on there, they'd know there's no way to stop me from forcing my way into a desk drawer."

The threat was clear here. She felt her blood turn cold at the implication but she held her composure. She scrambled to find a third option.

"Hand it over now and it only needs to be between us."

He let it linger and waited for a response. He watched the options flow through her eyes until she realized there was no play here. She sighed, opened her drawer, grabbed the chip, and held it out to him. He took it and rose to leave.

"Six," she said, halting him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Reach."

He slowly turned to read her. She seemed sincere but there was no way to be sure. He carefully resumed his seat. He was sure the encryption was good but there was an AI on board. Or a VI, whatever it called itself. He hadn't actually known until now if she'd seen anything at all. He moved slowly back to the chair and resumed his seat.

"How much do you know?"

She leaned forward, elbows on her desk and cleavage on full display.

"Quite a bit. About what happened, about your team, the invasion... It wasn't all put together but I managed to view most of it."

They sat in palpable silence, staring at each other as unreadable as one to the other. Internally, Miranda was being partially sincere. She meant her empathy, but she also wanted to push Six. For his part, Six was equal parts rage and sorrow. For the briefest moment, he entertained the idea that at least someone here knew what he'd been through.

'Someone knows their names,' he thought. 'Someone knows their sacrifice.'

He quickly dismissed the notion.

"If you mean that apology, keep this between us."

Miranda blinked. That was it? She'd prodded what she assumed was his Achilles heel. Shepard had flown into full conniption when Miranda had done the same thing by bringing up Akuze. Maybe he wasn't such a liability after all.

"I meant it," she said simply.

"We'll see."

And with that, he stood, and calmly walked out of her office, leaving her there to collect herself.

/

Shepard hit the holographic release on the door and stepped through into Mordin's lab. She was distracted, however, by the flying creature in the polycarbonate case. She curled her lips up at it's hideous appearance. Mordin walked up beside her. She continued staring into the glass but spoke.

"Tell me you have something."

Mordin turned and she followed suit. An almost creepy smile flashed across the Salarian's features. He turned and walked toward the center of the lab.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"Wait, that's it? That's gonna be our whole conversation?"

He looked over his shoulder at the Commander, still smiling.

"Yes," he said again.

"Great. Thanks. And don't smile like that on this ship ever again. That's an order."

He wasn't listening anymore and had instead busied himself on whatever he was working on. The seeker swarm defense, she hoped. With an annoyed exhale she turned and walked out.

"EDI," she said.

"I am here, Commander."

"How far out from Horizon are we?"

"At current speed, we will reach Horizon in 2 hours and 14 minutes."

"Thanks, EDI. Tell the crew to meet me in the briefing room in 60 minutes."

"Yes, Commander."

She thought about the Collectors for a moment and steeled herself. After their last encounter, things hadn't exactly ended on a positive note. She was the epitome of calm on her exterior, but she was twitchy inside. She had stared down this beast before and it had killed her. And she would be damned if her discomfort stood in the way.

/

Normandy SR-2 - Armory

"Maybe it's the Turian in me," Garrus said. "But if this a joke, I don't think I get it."

Garrus stood at the table in the armory. Weapons of every type, make, and model hung on the walls. A messy assortment of tools, grease, rags, and parts lay scattered on the table surrounding what had once been Garrus' favorite weapon. His beloved sniper, only bent before, now lay in pieces before Jacob.

"No joke, Garrus. Look, I did everything I could but this thing is toast. It was twisted so bad that I can't even put it back together the way you brought it to me anymore. We got all kinds of choices, though," he said as he turned and gestured at the gleaming stockpile.

"Did any of them by chance shoot a Reaper Saren in the head," he countered.

Jacob looked at the table, lips pursed.

"No. But the Widow would make sure that you didn't have to shoot him there more than once."

Garrus narrowed his eyes in response, remembering how clean the shot was at the time and how it hadn't been enough to drop the rogue Spectre in just a single well-placed but ineffective round. Garrus sighed.

"Touche... I suppose I don't have much choice either way. May I inspect the weapon?"

Jacob nodded and turned to try and find the sniper rifle. Garrus glanced around, spying several boxes with various weapons.

"Jacob. What are those?"

He pulled the Widow down from the rack and checked to make sure it wasn't ready for an accidental discharge. He didn't need to look to know what the Turian was asking about. He'd been knee-deep into trying to understand them before Garrus had insisted his lost cause rifle take top priority before the next mission.

"Weapons brought from the derelict," he said simply, strolling back to his spot on the table and laying the weapon before Garrus.

"Never seen anything like them," Jacob added.

"I didn't even know we grabbed that many," Garrus responded, still looking at them.

"All of you had a few here and there when you came back but uh... Kasumi... seems to have a knack for looting."

Garrus chuckled to himself as he heard the armory tech trip over the thief's name, confirming at least that Jacob was aware of her interests. Both men were now staring at the boxes awkwardly.

"You wanna see one," Jacob said at the exact moment Garrus responded.

"Yes."

Jacob walked over and grabbed a few different pieces, careful not to activate anything accidentally. He laid them out, now sharing the same side of the large table as Garrus. The Turian looked but didn't touch, not wanting to risk an incident.

"Most of their weapons seem plasma based. Best I can figure is these two points," he motioned at the green tips toward the end of one weapon and then a smaller but similar one. "Disperse gas and whatever it's using to ionize the gas. Round probably has its own magnetic field holding it together but now we're getting more into Mordin's territory."

Garrus brushed his fingers over the elegant weapons but did not pick them up. They were aesthetically well designed and Garrus could tell their solid construction, even before the satisfying thud when Jacob had placed them. He spied well over a few different types and landed on a couple that had nasty looking spikes.

Jacob noticed his gaze.

"Had Mordin look at the crystals. He found some interesting things but he didn't even know how it worked. Probably because he was working on the Collector swarm defense at the time. His best guess was something quantum, organic, or both. He said they might even seek a target. But what he knows for sure is that they emit some kind of resonance or something like that. They hit flesh and the resonance shatters them. It's like a grenade with diamond shrapnel."

"That's nasty," the Turian said.

"It gets worse. They interact with each other, too. So if more than one lands in close proximity on a target, they resonate together and the explosive force compounds. If they move slow enough, Mordin thinks they might bypass a kinetic barrier altogether. I'd hate to see what happens if someone catches 10 of these rounds..."

He trailed off but Garrus was already picturing it. He grunted approvingly. Garrus was something of an anomaly in his culture. Turians, as a rule, were organized, militaristic, and disciplined. They tended to focus on methods and honor, even if it cost some results. Garrus preferred the latter even at the cost of some of the former. And right now, a weapon like this would definitely fit exactly in his wheelhouse.

"And that?" Garrus asked. He was now pointing to a small device.

"Oh," Jacob said and picked it up. It had no barrel, no tip... No anything, as far as Garrus could see.

"You're gonna love this," Jacob continued as he held it out, clearly excited. "Grab here, and here. This is to activate it but don't touch it yet."

Garrus followed the armory tech's instructions. The device looked like it was made to fit into a hand, just not his. But he wielded it well enough. Jacob motioned for him to extend his arm and Garrus did.

"Alright, it's not gonna shoot anything or blow up, but it's loud when you first turn it on. So keep that hand steady and pointed away. Go ahead and hit it."

Garrus flicked the activation piece and with loud boom he felt in his chest followed immediately by a sinister hiss, he watched a blade made of pure, flashing, blue light spring fourth a full 4 feet and then some in his hand. Even as he held it, it crackled and fizzled, electricity arcing power from one point to another across the beam. It vibrated gently in his hand.

"Well now," Garrus said with a satisfied smile. "What do we have here?"

"Plasma based," Jacob said over the crackling hiss. "That thing will fly through a shield, armor, and a body like it's made out of air. It's pure plasma but there's a little more to it. You could maybe even cut a hole in a starship with that."

"Never got a proper look on that bridge when Zaeed got tagged but I remember seeing one of these. THIS is something I could get used to having," Garrus said.

Garrus waved it around carefully, appreciating the humming sound as it sliced the air. He could only imagine the devastation this could bring to a close quarters fight. Garrus and Jacob looked at each other, sharing a moment of enthusiasm for well-manufactured weapons.

"What the absolute hell, Garrus," the familiar and rather parental sound of Shepard's voice said loudly.

The two men snapped from their reverie and turned. Garrus looked at Jacob, then both turned to look at Shepard. Garrus glanced down at the crackling blade in his hand and back up to his Commander.

"Shepard," he said. "Thank goodness you're here. Jacob and I were just discussing how much you'd love one of these."

"Oh, is that what you two were doing? So this isn't just two men playing with an unknown weapon? Jacob, did you just say this can cut a hole in a ship? What do you two think we're standing in right now," she yelled.

"Of course, Commander," Jacob said. "Garrus," he snapped. "Turn it off."

Garrus tried different hand motions. "How?"

Jacob slowly approached and the two of them fumbled with the sword, a hand each, until it finally hissed off.

"Good to go, Commander," Jacob said.

"Well, now that you're both done handling each other's swords, have any of you seen Six? I told him he should stop by."

Garrus and Jacob looked appropriately sheepish and Shepard had to stifle her grin.

"Well?" She asked.

"Negative, Commander," Jacob said. "He hasn't been through."

Jane's humor quickly dissipated. She still wasn't sure about him. Despite her best efforts, Chakwas' warnings about his psychological state were tugging at her. He seemed rock steady but she'd seen that level of trauma before. Quiet, reserved, antisocial, but seemingly okay. Then the rounds started flying and they cracked.

"Shepard," Garrus asked. "Are you alright?"

She napped out of it.

"Yeah, Garrus. Just real damn tired. Briefing in 45 minutes."

She turned and left abruptly. Jacob and Garrus exchanged a look.

"She didn't look as good as she thinks she does," Jacob said returning to the mess of a rifle on the table.

"Yeah," Garrus said still staring at the doorway where she left. "Did you see the uniform she was wearing? A bit fancy for this crew."

Jacob chuckled. "Yeah, well, Doc went to see her a while ago about Six."

"Oh, I get it now. Even Sovereign never got under Shepard's skin the way the good doctor can."

"Yeah, I hear you," Jacob said sliding the Widow and some heat sinks over to Garrus' side of the table. "One time, before we got you, she wore nothing but her armor for a whole week after a conversation with Doc. I know Miranda and the Commander give each other a hard time too. Think it's easy working with Miranda?"

"The devil wears catsuits," Garrus chuckled, earning a chuckle from Jacob. Garrus was inspecting the Widow now, getting a feel for it.

"Who knew, right?" Jacob said with a grin.

It wasn't lost on Garrus that, by now, you couldn't judge groups; only the individual. He had reservations about humans until Shepard. He'd had outright bias against Krogan until Wrex. And once again, here he was on a Cerberus ship trading jokes with one of their agents.

Strange times made for strange circumstances and even stranger allies. He wondered how their new recruit was faring. It hadn't been made official yet but Garrus knew Shepard. And he'd seen Six in a brief bit of action. He couldn't get a read on the guy but it could have been worse...

At least he wasn't Jack.

/

The time had come. Shepard strode confidently toward the briefing room. She had been as patient as she could be but it was time to hit the Collectors back for once. She was anxious to start inflicting rather than just receiving. Even if that only took the form of disrupting their operations, denying them assets, or even casualties. They had to be stopped.

The door slid open and there her team was. Even Zaeed was seated, if awkwardly. Jack, of course, refusing to be mainstream had decided to lean against the wall with her arms crossed.

Shepard nodded at her as she walked by and Jack nodded back.

Jane walked to the far end of the table and took a seat. Six was nowhere to be seen. Shepard moved on.

"To quickly debrief, we still don't know much about the alien ship we encountered. It's long gone into a black hole by now. Six informed me about them a little. It's not good, team. But it's also not currently our problem."

"What the goddamn! One of those things nearly cut me in half," Zaeed shouted.

"True," Garrus said. "But on the bright side, at least the scar didn't wind up on your face this time."

Most of the table was now hiding their grins, including Zaeed.

"The Covenant aren't in this region of space," a voice said from the door to the briefing room. The room turned, and there was Six. Shepard let out a sigh, pleased that he'd decided to join. "Not even close," he continued. "But the Collectors are still out there. Shepard?"

He had strolled to an empty seat and occupied it as he spoke.

"Thanks, Six," Shepard said with a smile. "Zaeed, I understand your concern. There's nothing out there about them right now. The Covenant, they call themselves. And until we catch wind of them, we can't go chasing ghosts. I'll remind everyone here that we have bigger game to catch. Now," she said after a moment's pause. "We didn't walk away empty-handed. We got a stockpile of fun new toys, a new dropship that actually has some guns from the looks of it, and we got Six on the team."

Jack snorted loudly. "I knew it. EDI! Tell Joker he owes me a hundred."

"I will relay your message, Ms. Jack," came the synthetic reply.

"So," Jack continued. "What the fuck is your deal, then?"

Six turned, realizing that he was being addressed.

"Soldier," he said.

Jack's face darkened. "Soldier boy, huh? This ship is crawling with people quick on a trigger. Fuck makes you think we need you?"

"That's enough, Jack," Shepard said sternly.

Jack ignored her and continued the staredown. He stayed silent but held her stare. When it became clear he wasn't going to respond to her, she stood up from the wall.

"Don't play fucking games with me, Jolly Green. I asked you question. You just walk in here from a death ship and we're all just friends!? We don't need you. What the fuck good are you?"

Jane was about to slam her fist on the table but Six beat her to the punch, so to speak. He maintained the usual tone but somehow he cut through the noise beginning to rise in the room.

"Give me a weapon," he responded. "And find out."

The room fell quiet as the crew exchanged glances. The subtle threat wasn't so subtle and most avoided direct confrontation with Jack. Shepard could see the tension rising. Even Jack didn't quite have a comeback to throw.

"Well," Garrus remarked. "That was... Sinister."

Jane noticed Six's head whip around to look at Garrus. She wondered if that was a warning sign of some kind until she realized this may have been the first time Six had understood the alien. His omnitool at work, no doubt.

"And unnecessary," Jacob added.

Jack was fuming.

"Think you're some kind of badass..."

Samara stood directly to Shepard's right and bore her gaze on the convict. "The Commander made her will known, Jack. I suggest we all listen." It was anything but a suggestion.

Jack sulked and leaned back against the well. "Fine."

Shepard exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Okay, debriefing over. Time for the new briefing. We have Intel on a possible Collector attack in progress. Potentially right now. We're not far out from Horizon. Colony there went dark not long ago."

"Commander," Six spoke up. "Details on the enemy."

"Right," she said. "Short version. Collectors killed me two years ago, been taking entire human colonies, and basically been real pains in our collective ass ever since. This will be our first look. Don't know what to expect, really. We know they use mechanical bug things to sting and paralyze people. Then they scoop them up and carry them to no one knows where for God knows what. Weapons and tactics unknown. Is that good?"

"Good enough," he said.

She returned to addressing the room.

"Good news is, Mordin has been cooking up a counter to the bugs. Mordin? Want to let us know?"

The Salarian stood and spoke. Once again, Jane watched Six turn to face another alien he could suddenly understand. His face looked weird when it was perturbed.

"Of course. Proprietary technology. Quite ingenious. Small device attached to armor. Simple," he finished.

"Doctor," Samara asked. "How does this device work?"

"Draws power from armor," he said simply

Zaeed, Jacob, and Garrus all groaned in unison.

"But it DOES work, right?" Miranda said, finally joining the conversation. Wait a minute... Jane cocked an eyebrow at Miranda. She always had something to say when a new crew member was added. Miranda should have had a field day with Six but she'd said absolutely nothing.

"Has been discussed. Very complex. Schematics in lab. May visit if you wish to see."

Now Miranda groaned. Jane, now paying attention to the Cerberus agent, couldn't remember her even looking at Six. Had they spoken? Something was going on there.

"Unknown enemy means unknown tactics," Six said. "Do we know the terrain? How are we going in?"

Jane watched Miranda once again not looking at Six. Shepard wasn't the only one who noticed as Kasumi was looking between the two of them also.

"Terrain is mostly rural, one to two story buildings. Cover might get tricky in some spots. Three of us will..."

Six raised his hand. How quaint. Jane nodded at him.

"Why are you only taking two?"

Garrus interrupted the conversation. "She's been taking people two at a time as long as I've known her. It's kind of her thing," he finished, shrugging.

"She had more than that on the alien derelict," Zaeed added.

"Commander," Six said. "May I make some suggestions?"

Shepard sighed. "What have you got, Six."

"If there's an engagement in progress, scouting isn't an option. In a semi-urban environment, I suggest one squad sized element consisting of three fireteams. Two ground teams with mixed armament to engage medium to close quarters. Both teams with an explosives expert to breach if necessary. If terrain allows, third team should be overwatch consisting of at least one spotter and one sniper, preferably two of each. At least one with anti-armor weapons. First and second team each take one side of the street covering their own sides on the ground and the floor above is covered by the team across the street. Overwatch can provide enemy troop movements in realtime and take out targets of opportunity if they present themselves. If your dropship has weapons, I'd have that on standby for air support or to potentially engage or distract their air support if they have any. If not, keep it concealed but close for casualty evacuation or a quick exit if things go south. Ground teams sweep and clear, moving from room to room, building to building. They'll stay spread out while outside to avoid well placed explosives taking out more than one team member. Overwatch continuously moves with cover and concealment to line up adjacent fields of fire rather than head on or perpendicular. No one needs friendly fire for this op. We move staggered, close with, and destroy the enemy until the city is clear. Overwatch will scan, picking off stragglers or runners. They'll also keep the ground teams informed if they spot civilians. Make sure everyone checks their fire before pulling the trigger."

Jane didn't know a Turian's eyes could get that wide as Garrus practically came out of his visor. But they matched every other set of eyes in the room. Six had laid out, in less than a minute, a complex, multi-faceted, military operation that would have made her N7 program instructors weep with pride. Not to mention that it was the longest he'd talked if you'd combined every word he'd said before this meeting. Jane was impressed. Not an easy feat to accomplish, even less so with something that was her specialty. It was a sound plan and exactly the sort of thing she'd have suggested for an N7 squad operation. She was slowly beginning to think less and less about Six's age. Not a chance he was as young as he looked with that level of experience. But while his suggestions were good, it couldn't be done with the people she had.

"No fair! That's exactly what I was going to say," Kasumi teased.

"Well, Six, I'd almost say you'd done this before. I'll explain in further detail sometime why that isn't our best play. Suffice to say that we don't have the numbers for it and we don't have the specialists to fill every role. But I'll meet you halfway. We'll take a team of five," Shepard said, trying to sound encouraging.

Six blinked and slowly turned to the rest of the room, realizing his mistake. Yet another reminder he was not home in the same moment he was in familiar territory. These were not military people. He'd read as much as he could on them, however. The only people at this table he suspected could pull off any of the roles he had laid out were Zaeed, Jacob, Garrus, and Shepard herself. The rest were far from soldiers, but they were supposedly sharp operatives in their own rights. Most of them lacked discipline and cohesion, and some hadn't even ever worked within a strong team dynamic before. Not unlike himself, he thought. As he was looking around his eyes caught Miranda's. Jane saw the Cerberus agent's eyes widen and lips part before quickly looking away. Six continued to look at her, however, before slowly turning back.

There was definitely something weird going on with the two of them. Had he spooked her somehow? Said something? A problem for later. Jane looked at Kasumi who shrugged, confirming she was aware of it too.

"Ah..." Six said awkwardly. "In that case, I'd like to take point."

"Done. As long as we have some armor that will fit you. Jacob?"

"I'm sure I can find something for him. Hey Six, when we get out of here, meet me in the armory. I also want to go over some of those weapons."

"Understood," he said simply and nodded at the gun expert. "But I have armor covered."

"Not a chance," Shepard replied. "The armor you came with is toast, Six. We can find you something else."

"I've got something else," he said cryptically.

"Fine. But you still take point. Well then, that settles one position. I'm gonna need heavy hitters on this one."

Zaeed looked disappointed at knowing he wouldn't be joining them. Poor bastard, Jane thought. He really did live for this sort of thing. Shepard weighed her other options. No need for stealth so Kasumi was out. Mordin was tougher than he looked and tech savvy but she couldn't see him being a 'heavy hitter,' per se. Jane felt a pang of sadness at the thought that Tali would have been perfect for one of the positions. She moved on. Miranda clearly had something going on with Six and she couldn't risk distraction like that but her tech skills combined with her biotic ability made her a tempting choice still... That left Jack, Garrus, and Samara. Garrus was a sure thing. Six was still an unknown element in the field and she wanted some firepower besides herself. Jack was powerful, even more so than most Asari but Samara seemed to scare Jack, if only a little. It was often hard to tell who was the more powerful. Samara was a scalpel, cutting through foe after foe with ease. Jack was a loose cannon that tended to shred through multiple targets at once. Shepard's deciding factor here was Morinth. It was a recent wound and, thousand year old Justicar or not, Jane figured she might need a little more time. She couldn't afford a distracted soldier.

"Alright, we don't know what to expect so we go in heavy. Weapons free but check your fire. Six is right, we don't need to start stacking civilians. Six, you're my point man. Garrus, you're my second. I want both of you up front. Garrus, you see a position for a scope, you take it."

Garrus nodded, clearly pleased to be an easy choice but he had earned that. He was dependable and deadly.

"I'd like to take this opportunity, once again, to say that a Krogan sure would be handy," he felt the need to add.

"I'll take that under advisement. Next is you, Jack. I need support for potential biotic users and... Well, I need crowd control."

The biotic stood away from the wall, clearly surprised to be picked. But she quickly put an arrogant smirk on.

"Fuck yeah, Shep" she replied as she cracked her knuckles. "Let's crack some heads."

Jane smiled ruefully, knowing that the convict's enthusiasm would waver momentarily.

"Miranda, I need you as well. You can throw down some decent biotics and I need tech backup."

"Fuuuuuuuuck," Jack said.

Miranda looked up, almost caught off guard. "Really, Commander? Are you sure?"

Shepard furrowed her brow. "Yup. Pretty sure. Unless you're not up for it for some reason..."

Shepard was digging now and Miranda knew it. She cast a final glance at Six, who was looking at Shepard, and steeled her resolve.

"Of course not, Commander. I'm at your service."

"Everyone heard that, right?" Zaeed piped up. Jack grinned only because it was a dig at Miranda, but Kasumi smiled, Garrus suppressed his Turian grin, and Jacob had turned his head away.

"Alright, we all know our positions. We'll be there within the hour. Jacob, get everyone geared up. Six, sit behind for a moment. Everyone else, dismissed."

They all shuffled out. Jack purposely cut Miranda off on the way out and Jacob, Garrus, and Zaeed were cracking jokes. 'The Normandy Boys Club,' Jane thought. The door closed behind them. If they all survived, maybe some expensive whiskey and cigars wouldn't be a bad celebration. She shook herself and looked at Six who, as usual, haunted her for a moment with his almost glowing eyes.

"Commander," he said.

"This is where you pull your weight," she said. "I know you have the skills up close but can you handle point?"

He nodded once in the affirmative.

"You think you're ready? I know you'll say yes but really take a second here, Six. For all our sakes. This is potentially a very big mission and you're taking a key role. If there's even the slightest chance you'll hesitate, fold, or regret coming along, I need you to say so now before you put my crew in danger."

"I'm mission capable," he said.

She blinked and stared. He realized his slip up after a moment. He turned in his seat and looked at the door before swinging back around.

"I'm fine," he said. "All due respect, Commander, based on some of the people coming along, I might be the least of your worries."

Jane raised an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side.

"Did you just make a joke, Six?"

He stared at her evenly but revealed nothing.

"I'm counting it. I'm calling that progress. But I wanted to ask you about one more thing. Is there something going on between you and Miranda?"

She was staring at him hard now. Even her suggestive choice of words didn't phase him. He was a stone.

"Not that I'm aware of," he said, trying his luck.

"Alright. Fair enough. Go see Jacob and get outfitted. I'll join you shortly."

He nodded, rose to his towering height and walked briskly out of the room. He was more than a soldier, that much was for sure. Maybe a spook or spy of some kind. His mannerisms, his ability to reveal almost nothing about himself, how he adapted quickly, how he knew to dig for information and put it together... She couldn't know what he was for sure. Not yet.

But she knew he was full of shit. His face hadn't moved but she saw the very subtle posture change when he went just a touch more rigid. Whatever it was, it would have to wait. She had work to do.

/

Armory

Jacob was pleased to see Garrus finally appreciating the artwork that was the Widow. The Turian knew his way around a weapon. Garrus had disassembled and reassembled it several times and seemed pleased with the mechanics.

"Alright, Jacob. You've convinced me. I'd still like to see if you can fix my favorite but this will do VERY nicely."

Jacob smiled through clenched teeth. His old rifle was scrap now but the armorer didn't have the heart to say it out loud.

"You got it. I'll do everything I can."

Garrus nodded approvingly. Jack was seemingly picking weapons at random. Jacob had learned to just leave her alone. She mostly preferred her biotics anyway. Miranda had her own private stash in her quarters so it was no surprise that she wasn't here. But Jacob was waiting on Six. He had all the weapons lined up from the alien ship and he wanted to know everything he could. He didn't wait long.

The door spun up and opened. Six had finally made his way to the armory.

"Hey, Six. Welcome. We can start with some armor or weapons. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to start with this," he said, spreading his arms out at the assortment of alien weapons.

Six picked one up off-handedly, starting on the left. It was blue and elegant. It almost looked too fragile to be anything overly dangerous. Six went through the functions.

"Type 25 Directed Energy Weapon. Or Plasma rifle," he said. "Full plasma projectiles. Medium range. Muzzle velocity of 126 meters per second. Capable of semi and full auto at an average rate of 425 rounds per minute. Use short, controlled bursts to maximize accuracy and prevent overheat." He clicked some sort of function and the weapon opened. "Venting function for thermal drain. On a full charge, may get 200 rounds. With velocity and plasma, will overload a kinetic barrier quickly. Might even pass right through them."

He set the weapon down and picked up a similar but smaller weapon. Jack had maintained her distance but was now paying attention.

"Another Type 25 known as the plasma pistol. Reduced muzzle velocity to 108 meters per second, only semi auto action. What you lose in full auto," he said as he clicked something on the device and a green glow emitted and began to grow until the weapon was humming dangerously. "You make up for with overcharge." He gently aimed the tip down toward the big work table and held it approximately a foot away from the surface. Within seconds, the steel and ceramic coating of the surface began to turn blue, warp, and then begin smoking. Six clicked two spots on the weapon and the menacing green emission dissipated slowly, leaving the front of the gun with only green smoke. "One overcharge will seek a target to a degree if they attempt to dodge. On contact, overcharge will shatter shields and emit an EMP that can disable unprotected electronics, including vehicles. Splash damage will occur and damage anyone else in close proximity to the target."

He tossed the weapon to Garrus who eyed it suspiciously. Six noticed his hesitation.

"It's a versatile and lethal sidearm," Six said. "It's perfect in close quarters."

Garrus slapped the piece to his thigh. Six picked up a much longer and more threatening looking piece.

"Type 50 Directed Energy Rifle, heavy version. This is a rough equivalent to a concussion weapon but it's more akin to a portable mortar system. Six round magazine capacity of explosives bolts super-heated enough to stick into whatever they hit. Anyone it touches gets vaporized. Everything else gets sent airborne, light vehicles included." He pulled the magazine, checked it, then replaced it, loaded it and looked at Jack.

"Crowd control," he said. "Catch."

She caught it. "Fuck, this thing's heavy," she commented with a devilish smile. "I'd love to see what it can do to some collectors."

Six continued.

"Then there's this," Six said as he picked up a blue ball. "Type 1 anti personnel plasma grenade. Smart matter exterior, plasma generator interior with a hyperpinched plasma field. Between the two is a coolant. Press the button, coolant drains, three second until the plasma destabilizes. Everything within a 13 foot radius heats up a few tens of thousands of degrees. Heat dissipates the further out the blast gets but the casualty radius is just over 40 feet."

"Jesus," Jacob said. "Like everything they use is some kind of war crime."

Garrus was eyeing the device with a hint of disdain. Even Jack seemed a bit apprehensive but Six wasn't finished.

"The smart matter heats up as the coolant drains. Whatever it touches, it will stick to. Burning through and adhering. How many do you have?"

"We got a couple boxes over there," Jacob pointed. "Kasumi hit an armory of some kind on that ship. We've got boxes of all kinds. At least I know what some of it is but I'm also a lot less comfortable standing in this room now."

"Hey, soldier boy," Jack asked. "What's that?"

Six followed her pointing finger to several large, ornate, and heavy looking pieces of gear.

"Gravity Hammer," he replied.

"And I'm sure you're about to tell us how it does horrible things, right?" Garrus asked.

"They're melee weapons. 85 pounds. Brutes used them. Tungsten alloy hammerhead and a blade on the other side of the same material. In the head is a shock-field-generating gravity drive. It manipulates gravity fields, artificial and natural. Kinetic waves are emitted along with electromagnetic fields. It can push and pull what it's aimed at. When it connects with a target, it creates a vortex that pulls everything in a small radius, almost like a singularity, before it collapses and explodes outward. Violently. I've seen them used to knock rockets out of the air, crack a vehicle in half, and shatter multiple targets in a single swing. To give you an idea, if you used this on a Krogan, even the bones would splinter and liquify."

"That's nasty" Garrus said. "You said Brutes use them. Was that what we encountered when we found you?"

Jacob shot the Turian a glance. Garrus shrugged. Six ignored the question altogether.

"Covenant plasma weapons have very nasty ballistics damage. They'll melt armor, flesh, and bone. It cauterizes which makes field medicine difficult to administer. It vaporizes liquid rapidly which can cause organs and blood vessels to burst. It's both a weapons platform and a psychological deterrent the first time anyone sees someone hit with it. But once the charge is spent, it's done. No reloading."

He continued on for a while longer showing them the Type 50 particle accelerator, Type 2 energy sword, and showed them how to use each one. He also went over the scattered UNSC weapons he had brought with him like the M6 pistol, M90 Shotgun, and DMR. While interested, no one was impressed with the human weapons.

"No disrespect intended, Six," Garrus said. "But any weapon that uses cartridge based ammunition is pretty archaic. If your colony was fighting this Covenant, I can see how they would have had trouble."

Six looked at the weapons he had used to take the light cruiser, to defend Reach. They had probably been used in the battle for Reach by others at one point or another. And also as likely, whoever had used them before he had would have died. 700 million casualties, or so he figured... Humans. His people.

Jacob threw a glance from Garrus to Six but the big man showed no reaction. Not on the exterior, at any rate. Instead he just nodded. Jacob cleared his throat in an attempt to change the subject.

"Well Six, I guess that means it's my turn. We got all different kinds so let me know what you're into. We got assault rifles, shotguns, sniper rifles, submachine guns, and pistols. We have grenades too but... I figure you might be sticking with those plasma grenades. What are you into?"

Six looked over the weapons all secured to the wall. He had to admit, they at least looked like they could get the job done, if also appearing a bit fragile. The types were easy enough to tell the difference between, at least, as they followed the same basic build and design. He'd already done his research, however.

"I'll take a Mattock, 4 Inferno Grenades, and the Claymore," he responded.

"Claymore is for Krogans, retard," Jack said as she looked over her newest toy.

"She's right," Jacob said. "You can pick anything else but that thing will break bones with recoil. You got something else in mind?"

"I'll take the Claymore," Six repeated.

Jack stared at Six like he was crazy. A look that Garrus thought was humorous. Jacob just furrowed his brow. Maybe Six had some of the boneweave stuff that was going around, the armory tech thought.

"Suit yourself," he said finally. "But it's gonna be hard to carry all of that without some armor on. Come on," Jacob motioned to the corner where the armor stand was. "The armor you came in is fried. Let's see if we can make something fit."

"Phrasing," Garrus said. Jack snorted.

"Thanks but I've got the armor covered," the giant said.

Jacob just shook his head. "Offer is on the table if you change your mind."

Without another word, Six turned on his heel and left.

"He gives me the creeps," Jacob said after the door closed.

"He's out of his fucking mind," Jack added as she was now rubbing her new plasma weapon affectionately.

Jacob and Garrus exchanged another look but neither of them were going to touch that comment.

"Well... I'm starting to think maybe he's earned it," Garrus said.

"What's that supposed to mean," Jack retorted.

"The tactics he spelled out in the meeting were advanced. Without any other evidence, I figured he might be a special operative, spy, or mercenary. When my people first engaged the humans at relay 314, they didn't tell the Citadel right away either. I had thought maybe humanity had contracted some high-tech organization to neutralize the threat of some other first contact they experienced and didn't tell anyone about... At first. Neither of you saw what I saw. That alien that ambushed us. It was strong, fast, well trained. It had some kind of shielding that wasn't anything like a kinetic barrier. I watched Shepard hit it with a charge attack. The shields caught some of her energy and the thing itself only took a step back in response."

"I've seen the Commander launch armored enemies with that same move," Jacob said. He had crossed his arms, growing uncomfortable.

"That's my point," the Turian continued. "I hate to admit it but just one of those things made us look like disabled amateurs in close quarters. Sure it had surprise, but even then... Think about an army of those things armed with any combination of this," he gestured to the weapons left on the table.

Now even Jack looked uncomfortable. She hopped up on the table and sat, glaring holes into the wall thinking.

"What's your point?" She asked.

"When we pulled him out of there, he was pretty torn up then. But I don't think he got all of that damage from that ship either. And where did he get it? He flew a clearly short range transport to it. His Pelican, Shepard said he'd called it."

"Okay, now you've lost me too," Jacob added.

"Just that... He said he'd come from somewhere else. Reach, I think. Never heard of it myself but sometimes colonies have different names for their planets than the Citadel. But the way he talked, I got the impression it was where his colony was located."

"Fuck me, Garrus, would you spit it out already?"

"If he came from his own colony, why did he show up on an enemy ship... And where is the rest of his colony? Joker said he didn't detect any Eezo onboard. Not strange if the core was damaged or shielded but... What if it didn't have any to begin with? What if he was the only survivor?"

As the lightbulbs clicked on in their heads, the biotic and the Cerberus tech looked at the floor to weigh the possibilities. They stayed silent as they ruminated.

/

Six hit the button and waited for the hatch to drop on the Pelican. He had passed by the damaged engine. He'd have to see about fixing it sometime. No way was he letting the crew here look at UNSC military tech but if he was stuck here for now, might as well have a reentry capable ship that had armament on it.

He spent a good minute just admiring the craftsmanship before he started opening boxes. He stripped down right there in Shuttle Bay and pulled one of the Inner skinsuits on. Even though it was a size up, the tightness fit him like a glove. Next, he fitted the Titanium Body suit, carefully lining it up with the Skinsuit to its anchor points. Although designed slightly differently than the MK V, the skillset and process seemed the same. He quickly latched, sealed, and overlayed the boots and gloves also. With a tool from the maintenance box, he attached and clipped the foot, ankle, and shin portions. The thighs were always the easiest after that. The counterweighted arms from the box held everything in place as he attached the connections and bolted the Titanium A shell on, one piece at a time. Six pushed the helmet up and away in its arm and stepped backwards into the back piece. He had some degree of trouble lining up all the connectors along with anchor points while still bolting the back and chest piece together and on to the outer suit. He did shoulders, arms, and forearms next, leaving only the hands and fingers left. Soon everything was secured. The suit weighed a literal ton and he felt every pound. It wasn't activated yet.

He pulled the screen up to eye level, and finally pulled the helmet down on his head, sealing the last piece in place. The helmet found it's connections, including the one on the back of his head. The helmet had a slot on the back. It currently housed a thick series of cables laid out flat into a connector that looked about the same dimensions as a data crystal chip.

Normally at least a two man job, or a team of scientists and engineers if available, were required to fit Mjolnir. Six raised his heavy arm and hit the "INITIALIZE" button on the screen.

His HUD came to life, displaying the same bulls head and "Watershed," before displaying other readouts that he saw on the display screen.

MJOLNIR PAA MK. VI

Centurion

BIOS (version 1.0.0)

INITIALIZING...

Power... 100%

Shields... Not Engaged

Biofoam... Ready

Pressure Check... Sealed

LMCP... Active

Hyd. Gel... 102% cap

FM circuits... Active

Armor Lock... Ready

Sensor Suite... Active

Visor Control... Active

HUD... awaiting user interface

Comm... Active

MP Superconduct... Ready

Magnatic sys... Ready

Failsafe... Ready

User Interface... Connecting...

Six snapped his head back in agony as a searing pain extended from his neural interface and traveled along every nerve ending he had. The engineers, when fitting him with his original Mk V, had called it "mapping." It lasted 4-6 seconds but felt like an eternity. It finally released, replacing the burning feeling with a gentle buzz along his nerves and head, then tingles, and finally nothing. He felt the inner suit contract along his skin to fit better, the heavy plating sitting exactly where it should be on his frame now. His HUD activated in a cool, blue light. His grenade counter appeared top left, shield bar and approximate health status in the top middle, weapon systems information on the right. On the bottom left his motion tracker came to life and began sweeping while mission information, time, and miscellaneous readouts could be viewed. He felt the temperature in the suit go from warm to perfect against his bare skin and the entire suit lift into its usual, self-supporting state. It felt weightless on him now. His HUD flashed into his view.

Shields... Engaging... Active 100%

He heard the low hum of the fusion generator spin up and a golden aura cascaded from his back, around to his chest, then spread over his body until he was covered before fading into invisibility. The Mk VI seemed to have a faster shield generation time. He wondered what else it might have improved upon since the V series.

The monitor in front of him had system readouts he couldn't quite understand but it said his suit was ready to go. Remembering to pull the diagnostic chip from the slot in the back of his helmet, he slowly tested the movements.

His first time in a Mk. V had resulted in some damage to equipment and an engineer. He tested his walking motions, finding the neural interface picking up his cues flawlessly. He tried his arms next, the movements noticeably less jerky than the old system. He tested fingers, wrists, shoulders, torso, neck, hips, knees, and feet. They all moved equally smooth. He also noted approvingly that this Centurion prototype was a lot less prone to pinching and discomfort in certain areas.

After some jumping jacks, CQC moves, and general calisthenics, he had enough of an idea how the armor would operate. He knew that their upcoming mission would be the real proving ground. He still didn't know the limits of the force multipliers, shields, or speed on this thing, but he gauged his reaction times as noticeably improved. To what degree, he didn't know.

Pushing buttons on the display screens, the machine began to fold into itself until it once again became a nondescript box. He hauled it back on board the Pelican and eyed the remaining two boxes. He opened the box marked 2 and pulled the packaging off the contents. He found boxes with armor attachments; active camouflage, advanced armor lock, deployable drop shields, hologram, and even jump jet packs. Six didn't know if he was more angry or impressed with Halsey's ability to plan in advance. He attached the jump jet and grabbed a couple of drop shields and hooked them to his waist. His HUD registered the attachments and added them to his display. He found slots for two additional armor enhancements instead of the single slot on his old armor. He attached the active camouflage and the hologram. The display on the armor stand had said he had armor lock built into the suit already and he didn't think testing the advanced version in combat would be advisable. He found ammo cans on the bottom of the box. Grenades, sniper rounds, DMR and BR, and 50 cal explosive head pistol rounds. He loaded up on grenades and his HUD reflected their exact counts.

He turned to find box number 3, entirely positive at this point what he would find in there. He opened it and confirmed his suspicions. M6 Magnums, MA5D assault rifles, BR55HBs, M392 DMRs, M319 Grenade Launchers, SRS99D-S2 anti-material sniper rifles, M6 G/GNRs, which most called Spartan Lasers, and a pair of M41 SPNKRs.

Yet another dash of hope, compliments of the conniving Halsey, he thought.

There were even more boxes in this one with enough ammunition and batteries to wage a small war. The best weaponry the UNSC could offer. He attached a Spartan Laser to his back but left room for the other weapons he'd be taking. He shut the boxes and latched them. He exited the craft and hit the hatch.

'Wonder what else Halsey cooked up,' he thought.

Feeling like he was forgetting something, his eyes landed on the Cerberus uniform he'd been wearing and spotted his knife. He moved and quickly detached it, strapping it to his shoulder. He reached down to fold the unform and store it until he spotted a golden light shining between the threads. He rifled through the clothes until he found the source. It was the data crystal chip he'd found in the clipboard. It was pulsing in his hand. He poked at it and it stopped. He halted his wonder, however, when Shepard came over the PA system.

"This is Shepard. We'll be on Horizon's doorstep in 20 minutes. Landing Team, finish up whatever you need to and head to the Shuttle Bay. I'll meet you all there. Shepard out."

Six jammed the crystal into a pouch, adding the orange data chip next to it, and moved for the elevator. Time to finish up his load out.

/

Shepard looked at her ground team. They were 8 minutes out and Six was the only one not present. Garrus, Miranda, and Jack stood around waiting. Shepard heard the elevator, assuming the giant would finally grace them with his presence. She stood from the leaning position against the Pelican.

"Form up," she said.

Garrus came to a standstill next to the Kodiak, Miranda on his right. Jack shuffled over at her own pace.

"What in the hell is that thing?" Jane asked, pointing to the oversized weapon Jack was carrying. "Last I checked, you used biotics and pistols."

Jack flashed a blood-curdling smile. "Compliments of soldier boy. I don't know what it is or what's it's called, but it goes boom and it sends people flying. Can't fucking wait to see it."

Jane didn't even know what to say. The elevator came to stop and the door rattled open. Jane kept her eyes on her team. Her new guy was now arming her team?

"Anyone else have any surprises," Shepard asked.

Garrus lowered his head and pulled a pistol off of his hip and raised it in front of him.

"Sorry, Shepard. Six said it's an EMP capable plasma weapon. KB's don't do so well with heat."

Jane rolled her eyes and locked onto Miranda. "Et tu, boobies?" She asked drawing a correlation with the betrayal of Cesar.

"You're hardly a Roman dictator, Commander. And for your information, no. I have my own weapons..."

Shepard heard nothing but cocked an eyebrow when Miranda stopped talking. The whole team was now looking over her shoulder. Six, Jane guessed.

"Ah, Six. I didn't think you'd make it," she started to say as she turned to glare at him. She did a double-take, looking him up and down. Whatever armor he had shown up in was impressive. It looked like a brick that could soak up endless damage and dish it back out twice as hard. It had given him a more utilitarian appearance. Now, he had on something that looked brand new. It was a black bodysuit with gray plating across his vital points. Where his original was boxy and garish, this one was sleek, refined, and every bit as lethal in appearance.

She closed her lips and finally did manage to glare.

"Commander," he greeted.

"I assume you're lateness has to do with the new look?"

"No excuse, Commander."

He was almost maddeningly professional. She gave him a hard look but he remained unphased. Finally, Shepard jerked her head toward the line of crew.

"Fall in."

He moved and it struck the Commander, Garrus, and Miranda just how quietly he managed to move. Given his size and how heavy his new armor looked, it was more than a little unnerving. He joined the end of their line and waited.

"This is it, team. Remember your roles. This is our first potential engagement of Collector ground forces so keep it tight. Six, you're point. Use your judgement on when to engage, call out everything you see. Miranda, you're support and tech. Use biotics as necessary and keep an eye out for anything that looks interesting. Garrus, you're my second. You already know your role. Jack, the second any fighting happens... Well, just follow your gut. Is everyone ready?"

They nodded.

"Fall out. Get to the Kodiak."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes:

I wish I could write faster. I really do. I wish this was a finished project. I am SO into this story and I have so many moving parts behind the scenes that will tie in later on. I just want to get the damn story out there. Sorry this chapter is a little shorter. Longer meant more time and it felt like the chapter came to a close naturally.

Wish I could get chapters out faster too. The last few were written forever ago. I just pushed different pieces together to make it stick. This chapter had pieces all over the place so I had to write in a BUNCH of stuff plus finish it. The next chapters will take even longer so… Sorry!

Just for fun, here's some of the soundtrack I use to write this crazy thing. Maybe it can inspire you too!

What Comes After Winter theme - Caught in the Fire - Sam Tinnesz (T Profitt) OR Never Surrender - Liv Ash (I can't decide which song!)

It's Got My Name On It - Sarah Reeves

K/DA - POP/STARS

Fearless - Kat Leon

Devil Inside - CRMNL

Reckless - Jackson Gamble

Heroes Never Die - UNSECRET (feat. Krigare)

Sound of War - Fleurie (Prod T. Profitt)

Turns You Into Stone - Fleurie (Prod T. Profitt)

Just a taste. I've got theme songs for every character, both worlds, battles, etc. What music do you all listen to? Send me stuff! I always need new inspiration.

Anyways, I sincerely hope you all enjoy.

-Cheers

* * *

Chapter 4 - Hyper-Lethal

* * *

Some Time Ago

Arcturus Station

/

Admiral Hackett hated being on hold. He was not an arrogant man, merely observational. There were few problems he couldn't solve simply with the weight of his title but there were always some things every living being had to contend with the same way no matter their position. Being on hold had just made that list.

There was a clicking sound, and a familiar voice came on the line.

"Steven," the voice said.

"Erica," he greeted in return.

The young Captain had come a long way since working for him. She'd twisted and resisted every order and demand he'd given and he'd made her life hell for that. But after a while, she had started to bring solutions and ideas to the table. Hackett hadn't made things any easier on her at first, but she had refused to quit, pulled far more than her own weight, and actively engaged in the project. The Admiral had started giving her additional responsibilities, seeing how she handled a leadership role. In less than a year, Captain Woods had risen to his third in command of their classified operation.

"I'd ask how you were but I'll get straight to the point."

She knew him well these days.

"We've been stalled. Everything the Usual Suspects gave us had been accurate but it turns out one of the plans is incomplete. We have everything built but… We don't know how to run any of it safely."

"And by any of it, you mean," he started, already knowing the answer.

"The slip drive," she finished. "We have working prototypes of the shield, a MAC gun, and the like. But the calculations required for the slip drive to function are far beyond what our systems are capable of processing. There's nothing in the plans about it. We've been trying like hell to fill in the blanks but… This is way beyond us."

He grumbled quietly, suddenly feeling tired. This whole project was too promising to pass up, even with the setbacks. But his gut told him there was something more to this and he hadn't liked any part of this process so far. These setbacks weren't necessarily incidental.

"Admiral… We need to ask them about this."

Hackett scoffed.

"Not a chance. Every time we ask them for something, they ask something in return. And the requests keep getting bigger. Last time they asked for technical specifications of military shielding. As in our Navy. As in I don't like unknown parties being privy to our military capabilities."

A long pause ensued.

"Steven, we don't have a choice here. Without a functioning drive, there's no second stage to this plan."

He clenched his eyes shut, pushing back on the headache this whole situation was giving him. At least he knew how to cure it.

"Fine… I'll see it done. Keep me updated on any changes. I'll be in touch. Hackett, out."

He disconnected the transmission and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't help but feel like this was all planned somehow. Every snag they had run into, every time they'd had to ask for help, their mystery benefactors had asked for more.

Shaking his head, he opened a drawer in his desk. He pulled a bottle and glass out, placing them on the table. He filled the glass with the aged scotch about halfway before returning the bottle to the drawer. Hackett pressed his intercom.

"Yes, Admiral," the voice of his new secretary answered.

"Get me Ensign Roman Boyd," he said.

"At once, sir."

The grizzled veteran took a long pull from his glass, setting it down and twisting the glass on the table, staring at the swirling contents. He only waited a few minutes before he heard another voice.

"Boyd here."

"Ensign, I need you to send another transmission. We've hit a snag."

"Roger that, sir. Is this… Does this have anything to do with needing an advanced computer program of some kind?"

Hackett furrowed his brow.

"And why would you say that?"

"Because, sir… They're already sending it."

* * *

For UNSCMID 03669271,

Report: Project SHADOW

Report No.: XXX

Status: Ongoing

Source: XXX (verified)

Everything is on track. We've sent coordinated transmissions to ensure cooperation. The XXX scanning protocol, requiring XXX, to create an XXX was received but XXX are outlawed there. Quadrillions of calculations per second are required to successfully operate a XXX. They'll need to adjust or be motivated.

They're exactly on schedule as far as development. The XXX, XXX, and XXX are all in testing, minus the XXX for the aforementioned reasons. They have a second stage in the works as we speak.

We are also moving forward with our alternate plan. XXX has received our transmission and is responding. Although smaller, they seem far less concerned with the laws or morality of their area. And being able to set the two against each other wouldn't be a bad ace to have.

Agent XXX is now on XXX and ready to execute. Will wait for your order.

I should have told you in the last report. Hell, I almost didn't say anything at all in this one. But I now feel obligated to warn you about a potential snag. I only have my instincts here based on some circumstantial evidence but XXX is up to something. There's an XXX missing for starters. Given what happened on XXX, it's not surprising that things would go missing or be destroyed. The XXX aren't known for anything but glassing planets. But there's also a set of XXX missing, weapons, and a Pelican. XXX is either up to something or it's already done. Don't ask how in the hell XXX could even know about the project but it wouldn't be the first time she pulled something. If I come up with anything else, I'll let you know.

-USUAL SUSPECTS

-ONI report on Project SHADOW (REDACTED)

* * *

Horizon

/

The Kodiak door slid open and everyone exited, setting up defensive positions and clearing their immediate area. Six had linked his comms with theirs and now stood on the outskirts of a rather sad looking village. Everything was in tones of brown, yellow, and gold. They all raised their eyes to view the Collector Ship still attached to the surface some distance away.

"That settles it," Garrus said. "We got here in time, at least."

"Maybe," Miranda said. "Could be just as likely they're finishing up. We'd better move quickly."

"Agreed," Shepard responded before hitting her comm with the Normandy. "We're groundside. Mordin, you sure these armor upgrades will protect us from the seeker swarms?"

"Certainty impossible. But in limited numbers, should confuse detection. Make us invisible to swarms... In theory," came the Salarian's reply.

"In theory," Garrus said. "That sounds promising."

"Experimental technology," Mordin continued. "Only test is contact with seeker swarms. Look forward to seeing if you survive. Was unable to integrate with Six's suit. Claims suit will be fine. Also looking forward to seeing if he is correct."

Jane found Six in front of her, taking point. She almost couldn't believe what she had heard.

"Six, did you seriously come here without a seeker swarm defense? Do you know how dangerous they are?"

"No more dangerous than not wearing a helmet," Six countered, catching her off guard.

"Did he just make a joke?" Garrus asked.

"Did you?" Shepard added. She'd have called that more progress until Six held his fist in the air, telling everyone to freeze.

"Movement ahead. Four contacts."

They pushed against the wall for cover. Shepard peering over at their now known enemy. They were ugly creatures, armored and armed.

"Are these our targets?" Six asked.

"I'd say so. We need to move quickly here. We don't know how many more there are."

"I got it," Six said and before anyone else could move, he was around the corner and gone.

"What the hell," Shepard said. "Six, get back here." She peeked over the small wall but he was gone.

"Where is he," Garrus whispered as he too looked over the wall.

"I don't know," Shepard responded. "No way he made it down those stairs already."

"He's fucking quiet for a monster," Jack commented.

From where they were, there was a clearing below them that looked like a courtyard with an industrial sized truck. Directly ahead of them was the plateau they were now standing on. Shepard could see some of the Collectors in the courtyard and one was maybe 30 feet ahead of their cover. They started looking around wildly now for any sign of their wayward pointman.

"Shepard," Miranda said. Her tone drew Jane's attention and she followed the gaze of the Cerberus Agent.

Where there had been a Collector not 30 feet away seconds ago, it had vanished.

"No way," Jack said.

"Three contacts," came Six's voice through their comms.

"Huh..." Garrus stated insightfully.

"Badass," Jack smirked.

"Move up," Shepard said. They moved up along the plateau. Before they made it to the stairway, Six responded again.

"One contact."

They crawled to the edge to look down. They saw a Collector behind the truck, weapon raised, spinning wildly. It was clearly spooked, unaware of where it's enemy lay but all too aware that it's friends had disappeared suddenly. Two more of the Collectors they'd seen when they arrived had also simply vanished.

It turned around to face where Shepard was crouched. She never found out if it saw her or not. From behind the truck, Six appeared, knife in hand, and plunged into the back of the husk's head. It's arms went limp and it's weapon fell. From thin air, Six appeared behind the monster with his blade stabbed into the back of its neck. He pulled it out and the creature fell.

"Clear," came his gravelly baritone.

"I think I like him," Garrus said.

The rest of the team joined him next to the truck.

"I'm all for soldiers acting in their best judgement and within their strengths," Shepard said, stepping right into Six's face. "But try to remember to run us through your plan first. We're here to cover each other. You read me?"

She wasn't angry, just stern. This wasn't the first time a team member had gone a little rogue. Six looked from her to her team. He was a long way from the UNSC's leeway with Spartan actions, even further from Noble Team. Six nodded. These were amateurs playing soldier. He would have been better off doing this alone. It would have at least been faster.

"Good," Shepard said. "Lead on."

It looked like a straight shot toward the Collector ship now. Jane could see Garrus and Miranda a little on edge. She was too. Six was... Well, Six. He walked forward with the Mattock now drawn.

"Co...nder... Get...n...kinds of... Ference... Can't main..." The voice of Joker cut out.

"Collectors are disrupting communications," Garrus said.

"We're on our own now," Jane replied, now fully aware of the gravity of the situation they were in. She was also acutely aware of the fact that Miranda had been largely silent. It was almost as unnerving as the mission itself. Well, that and the fact that Jack was behaving.

The long walk ended in an opening on the wall to their left. Six was posted up and started scanning. It looked like the main portion of the village ahead. Buildings were scattered around almost haphazardly.

"What have you got, Six," Garrus asked.

"Multiple contacts. Roving targets," he said after only a little hesitation. He still wasn't used to addressing aliens.

"You got a plan?"

He hesitated, realizing he was following her order if he responded. He pocketed the thought for later.

"I'm gonna cut through that building," He said, gesturing at the stairs leading up to small building that overlooked the clearing and buildings below. "I can provide cover fire from there while you move forward."

Garrus nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"Alright, team," Shepard said. "Move."

Six positioned himself facing the doorway of the building to the right and pushed off. He went from zero to blur almost instantly. He crossed forty feet in just under two seconds, jumped over a flight of stairs and the guardrail, then entered the building.

And he hadn't made a sound.

"That's fucking weird," Jack whispered.

The four remaining members moved up.

"Contact," Garrus shouted. On the stairs leading downward into the village, there were positions of cover and multiple hostiles. With practiced movements, they moved forward and opened fire. Weapons fire came from the building Six had entered but it lasted seconds. WHatever he had killed in there hadn't put up much of a fight.

"I've got flank," Six said over the comm.

From their position, Shepard was laying down suppressive fire while Garrus picked off the targets of opportunity. Miranda warped a hapless husk as it charged, sending it spinning in place. Garrus caught it midair with one round, then dropped another Collector that was returning fire. It's kinetic barrier flickered then died and the creature took cover. Six hit it in the chest twice and the head once from his flanking position. Jack then leapt, soaring through the air like an angel of mayhem, connecting with the last collector full force and shredding him molecule from molecule.

Six cocked an eyebrow. He'd seen Shepard do something similar, and he had read about biotics before. But seeing it in action was something else. He'd have to watch himself around practitioners. He also wondered what getting hit by biotics actually felt like. He guessed it wouldn't be long before he'd have to face a biotic.

He had underestimated this team a bit. They complimented each other's skill sets and seemed cohesive. Effective, at least, if underdeveloped.

They all met up at the end of the small row of buildings. Shepard was beginning to have second thoughts here. This couldn't be the same Collectors that had killed her. Her ambushers were aggressive and relentless. By comparison, she was now facing children.

"This feels too easy," Miranda said.

"We just make it look that way," Garrus retorted.

"Who cares? Bad guys dead, we win," Jack added.

They rounded a corner and there on the ground was a distorted, twisted humanoid body on the ground.

"Those look like the husks we saw on Eden Prime," Shepard said, looking over the familiar looking abomination.

Garrus closed the distance and crouched to get a closer look. "I thought the Geth got that technology from Sovereign."

"It's obvious then," Miranda said looking at the husk in disgust. "The Illusive Man was right all along. The Collectors work for the Reapers. Could this be one of the colonists?"

"That's one ugly sucker," the biotic blurted.

Six had moved forward, past the crew, and taken position with his weapon up, looking for targets. The three remained behind examining the corpse. Again, amateurish. In the middle of a battlefield and they sit without covering themselves to talk.

"No," Garrus said. "The Geth impaled their victims with giant spikes to turn them into husks."

Six slowly lowered his weapon and turned his head back, not sure what he'd just heard.

"But we haven't seen any," the Turian continued. "The Collectors must have already had the husks. They want the colonists alive for something else."

Six used his optics to zoom in on the husk. The eyes in the face were drained of color, staring into nothing. Wiring and circuitry was protruding from tears in it's flesh, which now hung to what had once been a human like dried leather. He gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on the Mattock. Would there always be something to threaten humanity? Too many enemies. Too many dead.

"Well, the Collectors obviously need the colonists for something. Any ideas?" Shepard asked.

Six spoke up, unable to take the stillness. He'd never heard so much talking on an op before. "I say we keep moving. People could be dying while we sit here and speculate."

They all detected the ice in his voice and Shepard looked at the towering soldier but his back was turned to them now. Hey may have been a little terse about it but he wasn't wrong.

"Move out," Shepard said. She'd have to talk to him later.

They rounded another corner and found more buildings. Garrus wanted to comment that this many empty buildings was unsettling but held himself back. Maybe now wasn't the time for obvious comments.

"Multiple contacts," Six said again.

"How do you know that," Shepard asked.

"Moving up," Garrus said and moved into a building. He downed several husks and Collectors with ease but the weapons fire alerted their enemy who now rushed toward the building Garrus had occupied. Six caught Jack's eye and nodded. With another smile that made her teeth look like fangs, she pulled the Covenant concussion rifle off her back, swung it to her hip and unloaded all 8 rounds. Pure destruction tore into the enemy, shredding through barriers, rending flesh from bone, and sending them airborne in separate directions. When the dust cleared, there was nothing left of the contacts but smoldering piles of flesh and bone with scattered craters.

"Uuuuuuuhh... Clear," Garrus said from his perch.

"What IS that?" Miranda asked.

Jack dropped the spent magazine and slapped a fresh on in. "Covenant something or other."

Miranda's eyes went from the weapon to Six. Again, Shepard noticed their strained dynamic but her wonder was short lived and cut by enemy fire. Garrus, still in his flanking position, ducked just as a round struck the wall in front of him. He peered through the freshly smoking, perfectly burned hole in his cover. Must be a hell of a weapon.

"If anyone finds one of their weapons, I call dibs," he said.

"We should move up," Jane said. "Garrus, can you cover?"

"Hold that," Six said. "I have a plan."

"What's that?"

"Hold position until they line up. We have good cover, they haven't moved. They're defensive, holding us here instead of pushing us back."

"And then what," Jane said nervously as she saw more Collectors taking position next to their counterparts. The longer they waited, the worse it would be. After 90 seconds, the number of enemy combatants had only increased.

"Jack," Six said as he returned fire. With four trigger pulls, he downed two Collectors. But he had realized how entrenched they were. Their enemy lay in good cover, roughly 90 meters away. It was time for something unconventional. "Let's try something more direct."

"What's that mean," Shepard asked as she threw a grenade.

"Smash. Lift," Six responded "The rest of us pick targets."

Jack smiled wryly and nodded. She slung her weapon, and sheathed herself with a blue, purple light.

"You got this, right?" She asked.

"I got this," he said.

She picked her target, dead center, and launched with a scream. Six let his adrenaline pump freely and everything slowed around him. He stood and observed his targets; thirteen contacts total, nine clumped together. He raised his weapon and steadied himself. The world around him had now slowed to a crawl. Jack collided with the center Collector, sending it cartwheeling into the air. The shockwave sent the other eight around it staggering, their kinetic barriers overloaded. Six fired once, catching the center target clean in the head before it hit the ground. Jack grunted and the other 12 were thrown into the air. Six exhaled, lined his shots up, and pulled the trigger eight times after accounting for Shepard, Garrus, and Miranda lining up their own targets. Eight corresponding Collector heads jerked and exploded, four of them before they landed. Between the rest of the team, Garrus caught one in the chest twice, Miranda had thrown a singularity at one, shredding it, and Shepard downed two with well placed groupings in their upper torsos. For Six, it felt like a lifetime. The reality of it lasted 11 seconds, with the final eight shots being in less than 5.

Jack cast her gaze around, looking to see if there were any other Collectors or husks feeling brave. She touched her comm when she'd noted it was clear.

"Hell yeah. Not bad, soldier boy," she said, throwing a thumbs up in the air.

"Not bad at all," Jane agreed. "Fall in on Jack."

"For the record, I want it known that I'm still relevant," Garrus said over comms in his dry, deadpan humor.

"Sure you are," Jane said as they began to converge on their favorite convict. "In the same way Mess Sergeant Gardner is essential."

"Harsh."

They formed up, pointing now at the open doors of yet another building. They could see through one side and out the other to an open area.

"Anyone else ever think it's strange that, no matter where we land, there always seems to be only one, convenient and linear path," Garrus commented.

Shepard signalled to move up, Six again taking point. He cleared the building as he entered, pulling a pistol out along with his rifle to cover both sides. He holstered it as soon as he was through.

He took cover behind a chest-high wall and waved them through. Shepard and the team darted through quickly. Collectors began to appear in the open area, flying over walls and taking position. Shepard glanced over the wall. They all did when they heard a loud, gravelly voice yell across the field.

"I AM ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL," it said as one of the Collectors lifted into the air, arms spread wide as it appeared to char and blacken from the inside. Veins of luminescent yellow streaked across it's carapace, flames licking the flesh between the streaks.

"That's fucking ominous," Jack said.

"New plan," Shepard said. "Kill whatever that is."

They were taking fire from multiple vectors. Their chest high wall was being torn apart. Shredder ammo, Shepard thought. Jack had managed to use her Covenant rifle as a mortar and was dealing some damage. Everyone else was simply standing above cover for brief periods of time to return fire. Jane saw their threat. They were more or less in a line but had various sections of cover for themselves. There was a break in the fire and Six motioned for the team to listen.

"Distract them. When I give the signal, hit them with biotics. Garrus, I need you to hit the two snipers while they're distracted."

"Hold on," Shepard said. It was annoying when someone else tried to take charge. That being said, now wasn't the time for a pissing match if the plan was sound. "What are you going to do?"

"Eliminate the threat," he replied cryptically.

Jane glared into his gold faceplate. What in the hell was he going to do? He hadn't even formed a cogent plan, just barked orders. Just like when he disappeared earlier. Taking action without considering anyone else.

"You talked about trust, Commander. Now is the time."

Well, damn. He had her there.

"Do it," she said.

He nodded and disappeared around the wall.

A long 20 seconds passed.

"Mark," Six said over comms.

All four broke cover to see Six charging straight ahead into the line of fire. The level of fire he was taking was...

"Impossible," Miranda breathed.

And yet, their wayward soldier was soaking up round after round. No kinetic barrier, no biotic barrier. He wasn't even returning fire, just sprinting across the field straight at the Collectors. It almost looked like the rounds were passing through him.

But despite their surprise, they didn't hesitate. Garrus had taken out the two snipers with successive, clean shots. Jack was tearing Collectors into multiple pieces, throwing warp after warp in an endless barrage. Miranda was also throwing frighteningly accurate warps and shockwaves then following up with pistol fire when shields depleted. Jane had her own shredder ammo now and was whittling down defensive positions with it to create openings for her team.

"Six, what the hell are you doing," Shepard asked. He was drawing fire, sure, but it was suicide.

"Not what you think," he said.

"THIS BODY DOES NOT MATTER," a voice spoke from the enemy lines. Jane thought it had a similar quality to Harbinger. It emanated from the Collector who appeared to be on fire. Some form of possession? Sounded like a Reaper thing to do.

She had a split second to wonder what all of that meant when Six stopped dead in the middle of the field. The possessed Collector concentrated fire on him. He stood there, unmoving, before his form flickered and disappeared into nothingness. But not before a second Six appeared on the Collectors flank, dropping from the sky.

"MY ATTACKS WILL TEAR YOU..." but he never had the chance to finish as Six slammed into him from above, ending the creature's monologue with a horrifying crunch. The one ton soldier crushed the Collector into the ground. He rolled on impact, grabbed the body while he rolled and threw it at the next Collector with enough force to carry the target off its feet. The plasma grenade he'd attached went off and took another Collector with it.

In a flash he closed the distance to a third target. It attempted to bring it's rifle to bear but Six grabbed the barrel and held the rifle aimed down, yanking up on the arm of the Collector. It shot itself in the foot and Six activated another plasma grenade and stuck it point blank. He snapped a kick into its chest and sent it sailing into a group of its own. One Collector who had been hit with the explosive concussion was attempting to recover mere feet away. Six was now receiving return fire but, Mattock drawn, he fired past the Collector on the ground and into the rest, forcing them to take cover. The grenade blew and took four Collectors with it. The giant disarmed the enemy on the ground as it rose to its shaky feet and put his knife into its throat, holding it up. He spun the body, controlling it with his blade, then used it as cover with it's kinetic barriers still active while he ran to cover of his own. He yanked his knife out and the body dropped. Two more Collectors dropped from his Mattock before he ducked behind a box and disappeared.

"He's his own air support," Jack said.

The team itself had mopped up, clearing out Collector after Collector while Six had drawn fire. They had broken ranks as soon as he'd appeared on their flanks. The explosion only made their lack of organization worse. Only one remained as it tried to retreat. Six, again reappearing from thin air, launched it back to the battlefield with a kick and fired. Kinetic barriers failed before it hit the ground and Shepard slammed into it from behind wrapped in a biotic sheath, launching it back to Six who handily sliced it in half with an energy blade before without breaking his stride.

"Clear," Six said over comms as he replaced the blade to his lower back.

"Was all of that necessary," Miranda asked as she and the rest of the squad formed up.

"Maybe not," Shepard admitted.

"But it was awesome," Jack said with her traditional sadistic smirk.

"Maybe now isn't the time for this," Garrus said. His rifle was up as he scanned the surrounding area.

"I'd like to know exactly what you can do. Was that a hologram? And maybe a jetpack? Seems like you've got a lot of tricks up those metal sleeves," Jane said.

The armored giant just stared her down.

"I'm only asking so I know how best to use you," she added sincerely.

"I bet you'd like to know how best to use him," Jack said under her breath. Garrus swatted the inmate on the shoulder, earning a glare.

"So sorry, Jack. Didn't see you there."

"We're not finished," Six said, nodding to the large door in front of the group.

They dropped the conversation for now, moving to the door. Six saw another holographic display. He took a crack at it but it wouldn't budge.

"Well?" Jane asked.

"It's locked," Six said as he fumbled with the mechanism.

"So?"

He looked back at her and even with his faceplate, Shepard could feel the annoyance brimming off of him.

"Well, well, well... Looks like we found one thing you can't do. Miranda? Show him how it's done."

Miranda's eyes widened just a hair but she recovered quickly. She sidled up next to the giant, feeling his eyes on her as she approached. She activated her omnitool and linked it with the door's display, and began connecting live circuits around each other. She kept herself calm as he stared at her. Even when he leaned in to observe what she was doing, she stayed neutral.

The door opened to reveal what looked like a shop or storage room of some kind. They all hustled inside, closing the door behind them. Garrus covered rear while Six took point.

"Contact," he said over comms. "Likely not hostile."

"Get out here! Now!" Shepard shouted, weapon drawn.

Slowly, a man emerged from around the corner. Shepard lowered her weapon when he came into view. He was middle-aged, dressed as a mechanic, and had an awful moustache. He made his way carefully up to the team.

"You're… You're human. What are you doing out here? You'll lead them right here!"

He was spooked, twitchy. Shepard didn't want to push him any further but a survivor meant she might have answers.

"You had to hear them out there. Seems like it's hard to hide from the collectors," the Commander said.

"Those things are collectors?" he asked, turning away from them to process the information. "You mean… They're real?" His voice dropped to a pensive whisper. "I thought they were just made up. You know… Propaganda. To keep us in Alliance space."

Six watched Shepard tense just a bit. He guessed she wasn't keen on people against the Alliance. Made sense, given her history. The mechanic continued.

"No," he said as the gravity of the situation finally fell on him. "They got Lilith. I saw her go down. Sten, too. They got damn near everybody."

Shepard held up her hand to try and calm him.

"What's your name," she asked. "What do you do here?"

He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to stay calm.

"Name's Delan. Mechanic. I came down to check on the main grid after we lost our comm signals… Then I heard screaming. I looked outside and there were… Swarms of bugs. Everyone they touched just froze. I sealed the doors."

'Coward,' Six thought.

"Damn it," he continued. "It's the Aliance's fault! They stationed Chief Williams here and built those defense towers. It made us a target!"

The entire team now watched Shepard stiffen at the mention of Ashley. Six figured it was more to do with Delan's attitude toward the Alliance. Jack had no idea what it meant. But Miranda and Garrus both knew what the name Williams had meant to Jane. Still, the Commander kept her cool.

"Tell me more about this Alliance rep," she inquired, feigning ignorance.

"Chief Williams? Heard she was some kind of hero or something. Didn't mean nothing to me though. Would've rather she just stayed back in Council space."

"Any idea what she was doing on Horizon?"

Delan Shrugged. "Supposed to be helping us get the defense towers up and running. I got the feeling she was here for something else. Spying on us, maybe.

Shepard now had her answer to the Collector problem.

"If you have defenses we can use them against the Collector ship."

"You'd need to calibrate the targeting system first," Delan protested. "It's never worked right."

"One of us should be able to figure it out," Garrus interjected. "We just need the location."

Delan hesitated, looking from one crew member to the next as if they were all crazy. He finally sighed, shoulders slumping, giving up on trying to talk sense into strangers.

"Head for the main transmitter on the other side of the colony. Pretty hard to miss. The targeting controls are at the base. I'll let you out, but I'm locking the door behind you. I'm not taking any chances," he said while activating the door with his omnitool. "Good luck. I think you're gonna need it."

Shepard gave the signal to move and they exited the room. Sure enough, they all heard the door slide close and lock behind them.

"He was great," Garrus commented. "Real salt of the earth kind of guy."

"Stow it," Shepard said.

Her abruptness caught the Turian off guard but he realized this probably had to do with Ashley.

"Move out," She finished.

They moved up into a courtyard with multistory buildings just in front of them.

"Contact," Miranda shouted as she dove behind cover. Husks and Collectors began to descend from the higher stories to the ground below.

"Six," Shepard shouted as the rounds started to fly. "Got anything that might help us here?"

"I'm on it."

He broke cover, leaping over the wall and running toward the enemy. Like before, while their enemies were distracted, Shepard and her crew began dropping husks and Collectors with practiced precision. Six, meanwhile, was proving harder to hit than one might have guessed. He dodged, bolted, and rolled until he was in the open. He then jumped, launching himself into the air, throwing rounds down below him as what appeared to be thrusters on his suit spat fire and he flew up. He landed on a roof overlooking an open window in one of the buildings. He swung down and into the structure. The body of a Collector soon flew out of the window and impacted the ground below with a wet slap. Sounds of gunfire and explosions could be heard from within as Six cleared one room after another.

Down below, Shepard was lifting opponents into the air to be shredded handily by Garrus. He, in turn, was placing precision shots in the heads of husk and Collector alike. Jack had figured out how to finally aim her new weapon and was destroying multiple husks with a bloodthirsty laugh. Miranda was crushing Collectors with powerful biotic attacks without so much as a hair out of place.

A husk fell backwards out of a building, Six leaping out after it. With a well aimed shot, it was dead before it hit the ground. Six landed with a roll, coming to his feet, spinning, and checking for targets.

"Clear," the behemoth said.

They all stood and regrouped on Six. For his part, he wasn't impressed but he also couldn't deny that Shepard and crew had gotten the job done. Looking at the bodies around him, they were no amateurs. Spartans only ever really trusted Spartans, but if he was going to be part of a team of regulars, he could do a lot worse than this group… He grew quiet as his thoughts turned to Spartans. His home. His war.

"Stay sharp," Miranda said.

"That was surely the last of them," Garrus added sarcastically as he popped in a fresh heat sink.

"Push, Six," Shepard said

He nodded and raised his weapon, moving at a brisk walk through the buildings.

They encountered only a handful of hostiles as they moved. Within minutes they found their destination blocked only by a single door. They all spied the large antenna on the other side of the wall. Shepard held up a hand and her team stopped.

"Six?"

"Multiple contacts," he said tersely.

"You heard the man. I want a V formation. Jack and I on flank, Garrus and Miranda have center. Six, I want you on overwatch if you can. Understood?

They all answered in the affirmative.

"Now comes the easy part," she said under her breath.

She activated the door and they all ran through. They began taking fire immediately. Staying cool, they stayed on task, returning fire as Garrus and Miranda found cover and began suppression. Shepard and Jack found their targets on flank and launched almost at the same time in a biotic charge. They impacted and tore their enemies into pieces before taking cover and returning fire of their own. Six hit his thrusters and took off. He threw two inferno grenades where the enemies were entrenched, killing tthree before he landed on a roof to the side and began picking off enemies with accurate bursts from the Mattock.

The enemy was already sparse in numbers here. It was a clearing of some kind with many boxes, one would assume the Alliance moving in the defense network, that made cover easy. Shepard's well-trained team cut through them like tissue in a short series of bursts, explosions, and biotics.

"Hold position," Shepard said as she ran to the antenna in the center of the clearing.

She hacked it with her Omnitool in a matter of seconds. When she had the connection, she hit her comm.

"Normandy, do you copy?"

"Joker here," came the static-ridden reply. "Signal's weak but I got you."

"EDI, can you get the air defense turrets online?"

"Errors in the calibration software are easily rectified but it will take time to bring the towers to full power. I recommend a defensive posture. I will not be able to mask the increased generator output."

"So what," came Jack over comms.

"So we'll have ugly company trying to shut it down," Garrus answered.

"We'll stop them," Shepard reassured her team. "Easy enough."

"It's never that easy," Six said. "Contacts inbound."

"Six is correct. Enemy reinforcements closing in. I suggest you ready weapons."

Shepard was already halfway to cover before EDI had finished speaking. "Weapons free," she shouted.

"I AM ASSUMING CONTROL OF THIS FORM," came a booming voice as Collectors began to pour in from ahead of their position.

At first it seemed like standard engagement until the biotics started flying. Several shockwaves flew simultaneously directly at Six's position. He leapt out of the way of one, rolled under a second, then jumped off of his position to the ground below before the third connected and sent him through one side of an armored box and out the other. He slid to a stop in the dirt. His shield had absorbed the damage, reading at 66%. His head swam just a bit and he felt a small amount of nausea. Apart from that, he felt fine.

'So that's how it feels,' he mused. 'Like getting hit by a Warthog.'

"SIX!" came Shepard's panicked voice.

"I'm alright," he answered.

"Glad to hear it. Now get your ass up! Miranda, Jack, start lifting."

He was on his feet now, assuming cover and scanning for targets not far off from Miranda and Jack. The pair threw lifts at two Collector Drones who rose up, legs flailing. Six and Garrus got their shots off to the heads of their floating nemesis and resumed cover.

"Nice shot, Six," Garrus said approvingly.

Six's comm stayed silent.

Another shockwave flew at Shepard who dove out of the way as her cover exploded. And more were pouring in.

"MY ATTACKS WILL TEAR YOU APART."

"Bypassing failsafes and attempting emergency power up. Please hold the defense tower," EDI's voice crackled through their comms.

"What the fuck does she think we're doing," Jack yelled, throwing warps to try and counteract the warps being thrown at them. She was sweating now, clearly under strain. Her Covenant weapon was out of ammo.

Garrus dropped a husk just as it was closing in on Six. The Spartan ignored the save, throwing an inferno grenade behind the cover of two Collectors. But still more appeared.

"We might be in trouble, Shepard," Miranda yelled through the gunfire.

Several Collectors were now swarming around Garrus, drawing closer. Pulling the plasma pistol off his hip, he fired at the incoming targets as fast as he could pull the trigger. They dropped at two shots each. Garrus looked over the weapon approvingly.

"Sequential power-up initiated. GARDIAN anti-ship batteries at 40%," EDI said.

"Hurry the hell up, EDI," Shepard shouted as she prairie dogged around the side of the box she was taking cover behind. Every time she popped out was a biotic attack or suppressing fire.

They were separated now. Miranda and Six occupied one corner while Jack, Garrus, and Jane held their end in another. At this point it was all they could do to stem the tide of never ending Collectors and husks. They were holding their lines, but only just.

Six," Miranda said between trigger pulls.

"YOU WILL KNOW PAIN, SHEPARD."

"What," he queried. They were facing away from each other behind the same box, focusing on their own fields of fire.

"GARDIAN anti-ship batteries at 60%. Syncing targeting protocols to Normandy's systems. Continue to protect the tower."

"A little help," the Cerberus agent said.

Husks were bearing down on her position. She kept having to duck behind cover as Collector Assasins kept firing at her and she couldn't clear the husks out even as they closed in. She felt a rough tap on her shoulder and turned. He had handed her a plasma grenade. She looked at him as if upset that this wasn't what she had in mind before activating and hurling it at the incoming husks. It stuck to one's chest, burning into it's dead flesh befor a boom took out five at once, sending pieces in all directions.

With a bit of breathing room, she turned to observe their newest addition to the team. Of course it would be impossible to tell with the armor, but it seemed to her like Six was comfortable here. At the very least he didn't seem disturbed. But after seeing the helmet footage, she wasn't surprised. Frankly, he'd seen much worse than this. He was hitting headshot upon headshot, both to drop shields faster and kill once they were down. He was methodical, surgical. As if acting on reflex.

"Looks like they're breaking," Shepard said. "I'm not seeing any reinforcements."

Six was also thinking, like Miranda, that he was more comfortable here than he was on the Normandy. He also wondered what that said about him. He dropped the thought and instead focused on the few remaining Collectors before them.

Shepard and the remaining two were sweeping up the rest of their targets too.

"Too easy," Shepard said, breathing heavily.

"Commander," came the raspy voice of Six.

She popped another heat sink into her weapon, loading it for the inevitable next wave.

"I know, I know… It's never that easy. Just say it."

"Contact inbound," he said just in time to sour Jane's mood a little further.

"What the fuck is THAT thing!?" Jack shouted.

They all turned.

It was a good question. It looked like a giant crab, not dissimilar to the Collectors before, but larger, floating, with blue trails of biotic energy streaking off of it and what appeared to be dozens of human husk heads in its mouth. It was now charging an attack.

"Take cover!" Shepard yelled and lunged. For the second time in as many days, she wasn't fast enough as she took twin particle cannon beams to the chest. She hit the ground hard on her side but made it to cover. Her barriers had held, if only just.

The monster focused fire on Garrus next who had gotten its attention with an overcharged plasma shot. Jack, to her credit, was whittling it down with powerful biotic attacks but the barrier proved to be too much for any real damage. Whether through slow speed or its plasma base, the pistol round sailed right through the barrier and began burning through one side of the Collector leviathans face. It didn't react, as if it couldn't feel the pain. As it bore down on their position, Six hurled an inferno grenade, taking out a chunk of its back. Garrus now forgotten, it turned toward Six who was pumping round after round into it. Shepard and Garrus followed suit with weapons and biotics. Jack, depleted of rounds for her Covenant toy was unleashing her impressive biotics in an attempt to drop the barrier.

"What's this thing made of," the convict yelled.

"Don't get too close," Garrus shouted. "Just keep shooting."

"EDI," Shepard spoke into her comms. "We need that system online. NOW!"

The monstrosity was effectively keeping Jane and those closest to her pinned with its beam fire while it backed up into the corner where Miranda and Six were. In a flash, it whirled around and rocketed toward the two from above at an angle. Six, his reflexes and speed significantly sharper, got clear of the area. Miranda was not so fortunate. It slammed into her, crushing her into the grass below. She rolled out of the way of a biotic blast that still sent her spinning through the air. She landed in a heap and watched her approaching death as the hideous Collector lined the beam cannons up to her battered form. She held her breath waiting for the inevitable.

Six was in a full sprint from the Collector's flank. Shepard. Garrus, and Jack watched him throw his last plasma grenade and what almost looked like a flashlight before several things happened at once. First, the flashlight object hit the ground underneath the creature and activated. A bright, blue dome of energy appeared, surrounding the enemy. It fired its beams but they were blocked entirely by the surface of the dome. Next, the plasma grenade Six had thrown passed through the dome, hitting the behemoth in its side. Six was still sprinting, plasma sword now in hand. The explosion went off, completely contained within the dome. A hurricane of moleten plasma encompassed the entirety of the monster. The first explosion damaged the shield emitter which caused a secondary explosion into the creature before the dome disappeared. A charred, gory mess emerged from the barrier but was still alive, if only barely. The moment the shield dropped, Six plowed into the Collector's side, pushing his plasma sword through unprotected flesh to the hilt. The momentum took the creature sideways and into the ground with Six rolling off of it. He had the Mattock in his hands by the time the roll finished, on his feet now, aiming at the dead mass of burned carapace and guts. It made no more movements. Six kicked its lifeless form.

"Clear," he said over the comms.

No sooner had he said it then the GARDIAN defense towers activated. As one, they all turned and began firing at the Collector ship. It's engines fired, obliterating nearby buildings and scorching the land in a tidal wave of heat and exhaust.

"They're pulling out," Garrus shouted as the shockwave and heat hit them even from a distance.

They watched their quarry disappear into the sky, staying silent for several moments.

"There's no reason to stay," Garrus said forlornly. "Most of the colonists are on board. They got what they came for."

Delan the mechanic came sprinting up behind them as he watched the bright light of the engines disappear past the atmosphere of the planet.

"NO," he yelled. "Don't let them get away!"

"There's nothing we can do," Shepard said, eyes also on the escaping ship. "They're gone."

"Half the colony is in there!" Delan continued to shout, now shaking his fist at the sky. "They took Egan and Sam and… And Lilith. Do something!"

"I didn't want it to end this way," Jane said, trying to keep the situation calm even as Delan's world fell apart. "I did what I could."

"Contact, Shepard," Six said, using his motion sensor. "Appears non-hostile."

"Shepard," Delan said as if trying the name out. "Wait. I know that name. Sure, I remember you… You're some type of big Alliance hero."

From around the corner of a building, a voice rang out even as the body followed. Female, attractive, brunette hair, and armor with pink accents strolled up surprisingly casually considering the last hour. Six surveyed her with mild distaste.

"Commander Shepard. Captain of the Normandy. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel. You're in the presence of a god, Delan. Back from the dead."

"All the good people we lost, and you get left behind. Figures. Screw this. I'm done with you Alliance types," Delan said with a dismissive wave of his hand before departing.

The newcomer strode up to the Commander. Six could tell that they knew each other, but he trusted no one. His grip on the Mattock tightened. The newcomer stuck her hand out to Shepard.

"I thought you were dead, Commander."

Jane returned the shake firmly.

"We all did."

"You don't sound too happy to see me. Something bothering you, Ash?"

Six was at his limit. He turned and walked away, leaving them to their conversation. Too much interaction, too much negligence, too many lives lost. He wandered until he found a spot where he couldn't hear any voices and leaned against a nearby building. What was he even doing here? He should be home, fighting a war that mattered. Not this inane bullshit that Halsey had forced upon him.

'You're on your own, Noble…'

He slapped the side of his helmet with his palm, shaking the thoughts out. But another one tumbled in. The chip! He still had it. He cursed himself for how long it took him to make the realization. The answer to his problems could be that simple, afterall. It had taken him here, it could take him back. No one here had slip drives but there had to be a way.

"You have a lot to learn about working with a team."

He looked to his would be Commander before turning back to stare into nothing.

"And you have a lot to learn about utilizing one," he said.

There was no malice in his tone, merely an observation. He looked back at her to gauge a reaction. To her credit, her face was a stone.

"Sounds like you have something to say. Say it."

He rattled off a list in his head. The amount of talking, the fact that no one wore head protection, that Garrus their supposed marksman was used as standard infantry, that he'd been given overwatch with a Mattock… But what he had the biggest problem with Shepard's fast and loose command style. Her briefings were vague, no discussion of tactics or contingencies, not even a fallback point. She was going to get people killed eventually.

"Nothing to say, Commander," he finally said.

Jane was frustrated with him. It was bad enough, the circumstances around his arrival, and now he seemed to have a problem with her style of command. She hoped in time that he would come around but she wasn't so sure.

"Not much of a team person, are you." It wasn't a question. He stayed silent.

"Look, you're clearly good at what you do. On a different level entirely in some instances. That stunt you pulled with the monster back there… I don't even know how you came up with that, let alone pulled it off. But it saved someone's life, Six."

He didn't know how to feel about that. It had been pure reflex. In the seconds it took to make a decision, he had gone over every piece of equipment he had, the options he had with them, made a plan, and just acted. Plus it was Miranda that he saved and he couldn't help but think things might be more convenient if she hadn't made it. Call it whatever it was, he couldn't stop the thought itself even if he hadn't considered it a real option. But he was a Spartan. He didn't do half-measures, only ever performed at his maximum.

"Don't mention it," he said, meaning it literally.

"Fine, be that way. But know that I'm grateful. And she might not ever say it but Miranda is too. Now, as good as you are, I need you to work with us, not beside us. We got lucky this time. Next time things might be worse. I need to know if I can count on you to be there for the team. We still haven't had that talk about where you're really from but you're here now. With us. And goddammit, we're actually trying to protect people. Can I count on you?"

He considered that. He'd only been with Noble Team for all of two weeks. Before that he was doing missions solo. He worked well enough with Noble but they, like him, were Spartans. Regardless of cohesion or time together, Spartans thought along similar lines, used similar tactics, and came from similar backgrounds. Even if they only just met, Spartans could be expected to work together smoothly from the jump. He'd worked with UNSC Marines before, too. Hardened men and women, sure. Varying skill levels among them of course. But when he was forced into close proximity with them, he tended to work around and in spite of them rather than with them. Shepard's team was a different story entirely. Everyone involved could not have been more different.

"We should head back," he answered, finally.

He leaned off of the wall and walked past her toward the rest of the team. She stared at him as he passed, green eyes trying to pierce that gold visor but to no avail. The man was featureless steel. When he passed, she stared after him for a bit.

Jane hit her comm. "Joker, send the shuttle. "We've all had enough of this colony."

* * *

On the shuttle ride back, no one spoke. They barely even looked at each other. The weight of their truth pushing down any elation at the adventure itself; they had been too late.

They landed in the shuttle bay, Kodiak touching down and the door sliding back to allow everyone to exit. They filed out and headed for the elevator. All but Six. He instead made a beeline for his Pelican. He hit the button and the ramp began to descend.

"Six, make sure you check those weapons into the armory."

He didn't respond. He barely even glanced at her before he walked into his craft and the ramp closed. Jane stared after him for a while longer, debating whether to follow him. Instead she turned and headed for the elevator. She stopped short when she realized the rest of the team had left without her. Now she'd have to wait an eternity for the thing to come back down.

"Dammit, she said, hitting the button.

Next was the debriefing with TIM. As if this day wasn't already bad.

* * *

Garrus, Jack, and Miranda walked into the armory together directly from the elevator.

"Welcome back," Jacob said. He was still trying to piece Garrus' rifle together.

They began to unhook their weapons and lay them out on the table in front of them.

"How's that coming," Garrus asked as he nodded at his former weapon.

"It's not," Jacob said. "This rifle will never fire again. How's the Widow working for you?"

Garrus took the news hard. He admired the Widow but there was something sentimental about the rifle one of those Covenant aliens had destroyed. It had felt like a part of him with everything he had been through with it.

"It'll do fine," he said as he placed it on the table. "Thanks for trying."

Jacob just nodded. Out of everyone on the team, he knew Miranda the best. They'd worked together the longest and as distant as she had tried to be, they had developed something of a friendship. Enough for him to know that she wasn't nearly as confident as she came across. Also enough to know that she was dealing with something right now as he saw her face, and enough to know better than to ask about it. He saw her, and she saw that he had seen. Instead of saying anything, he just nodded at her. She nodded back after a moment of hesitation. She finished unloading herself and quickly made her exit.

"Fuck's her problem," Jack grumbled.

"Something happen," the technician asked.

"Cheerleader almost got herself killed," the biotic responded. "Was pretty amazing to watch."

Garrus, sensing Jacob's discomfort, tried to smooth over the situation.

"We ran into a bit of a monster. She caught the bad end of it. I thought she might have been a goner too."

"Well, what happened?"

"Six happened," the Turian answered as he began placing grenades on the table now. "Honestly not sure I could even tell you how he did it but one second Miranda was done for, the next second the thing is dead and Six is standing over it. There was some energy shielding, one of those swords, and a couple of explosions between all that but I couldn't say for sure how he pulled it off. It happened fast."

"Well, I'm glad you made it back okay."

Jack dropped her large weapon on the table in front of them. "Whatever," she said. "Here." She walked out and presumably back to her dark hole in the belly of the ship.

The two men watched her make her exit.

"What about Shepard," Jacob asked.

"She's… as fine as usual. We were too late, Jacob. She'll blame herself, as usual, pretend nothing is wrong, and then move on. Like always."

Jacob chuckled but there was no humor in it.

"I don't know her well but I've known plenty of types like that. Works for a while, at least. How'd Six do?"

Garrus paused at the question, not sure how to respond. "He's good at what he does but… I don't know."

They stood there, staring off into space, lost in their thoughts.

* * *

Jane closed the briefing room door, forgetting to lock it. Once more, an orange laser grid scanned her before the table disappeared into the floor and she was staring at the holographic projection of the Illusive Man. He took a long drag off of his trademark cigarette before ashing it.

"Shepard," he said unceremoniously. "Good work on Horizon. Hopefully, the Collectors will think twice before attacking another colony."

Shepard scoffed.

"It's not a victory. We interrupted the Collectors, but they still abducted half the colony."

"That's better than an entire colony," was the matter-of-fact response. "And more than we've accomplished since the abductions began. The Collectors will be more careful now, but I think we can find another way to lure them in."

Shepard paused, finally putting the pieces together.

"Ashley said the Alliance got a tip about me and Cerberus… Was that you?"

TIM took another pull from his cigarette, pausing before answering. "I may have let it slip that you were alive. And with Cerberus."

'Son of a bitch,' she thought, barely able to contain ehr anger.

"You risked the lives of my friend, my crew, and that entire colony? Just to lure the Collectors there?"

"A calculated risk," he fired back, getting defensive. "I suspected the Collectors were looking for you, or people connected to you. Now I know for certain."

The implications here turned Shepard's blood cold.

"I told you I wouldn't sit and wait while the Reapers and Collectors gather strength," he added, voice rising just a hair now. "Besides," he added as he seemed to calm. "They would've hit another colony eventually. And without a way to predict which one, they would've abducted everyone."

Jane was fuming now, fists clenched. Not for the Illusive Man using her the way that he had, but because he was right. And she feared what it meant when men like him started making sense; when the universe needed men like him. When she spoke, she sounded much calmer than she felt.

"We need to make sure they don't abduct anyone else."

"I want the Collectors stopped for that very reason. That's why we're doing this Shepard. I'm devoting all my resources to finding a way through the Omega 4 relay. We have to hit them where they live. Your team will need to be strong… as will their resolve. There's no looking back."

The Commander's thoughts turned to each of her teammates in turn. She paused on Six, unsure if he was really in this fight or not.

"The same goes for you," he continued, catching Shepard's attention. "Can I assume you've put your past relationships behind you?"

"None of your damn business," She said venomously. She may be working with him, for now, but there were limits.

"If it affects the mission," he said, ashing his cigarette once again. "Better you should leave it behind. Shepard, once we find a way through the Omega 4 relay to the Collector homeworld… There's no guarantee you'll return."

He was testing her now, seeing if her resolve was where he wanted it. He needn't have bothered, showing once again how little he actually knew about Jane besides her accomplishments. To him, she was a list and a solution. Nothing more.

"To have any hope of surviving," he again continued. "You, and your entire team, must be fully committed to this."

His emphasis on 'entire' and 'committed' once again drew her thoughts to Six. Was he ready? Would he die for this? She doubted it. She didn't doubt his abilities but his resolve and intentions were as much of a mystery as his background. She stared back at her supposed partner.

"Let me worry about them," she responded. "You just find us a way to the Collector homeworld."

"I just want to be upfront about your odds. You'll need everyone at their best. Keep building your team while I find a way through the relay. And be careful, Shepard. The Collectors will be watching you."

With that, he was gone. With a whir of servos, the table formed in the center of the room once again. She sighed, turning around to see Jacob leaning against the rail, arms crossed.

"I guess we're really gonna do it," he said. "Hit the Omega 4 relay, take the fight to the Collectors in person. Looking forward to the action. After seeing what those bastards did on Horizon, though… makes you think."

'And this is why we lock the briefing room door when taking calls,' Jane thought to herself. "They're powerful," she agreed. "But we've got a few tricks for them. If anyone can stop them, we can."

"No argument there, Commander. Horizon just made it hit home. What we're doing, what we're up against. Gonna go take care of a little unfinished business. I imagine everyone else is too… Getting some closure, you know?"

He stood up from the railing and showed himself the exit. He wasn't wrong. Shepard could feel them all coming up on the end of this journey. And there was little chance they would all make it out alive. All the talk about closure made her uncomfortable. Fact is, the only closure anyone ever really has is the closure they create for themselves.

But she wasn't about to tell her crew that.

* * *

Six held both of the orange chips in his hand. One, the chip that got him here. The other, an unknown that looked much more active within the crystal matrix, and also more dangerous. He'd need to read them both to know where to go next.

He yanked open the box marked 1 and hit the security device. It once again warned him about space being unavailable. With a grunt, he put his fingers under the lid and yanked. With the Mk. VI enhancing his movement, the lid came up with a pop and metallic screech. He found the arm that held the monitor and pulled it up into view on its arm. It hung there exactly where he left it. He activated the screen, which gave him warnings and errors. He bypassed all that, instead opening a base software to read and execute. He found the original chip and inserted it.

Even though an armor stand hardly had a slip drive on it, he took a step back in the Pelican as the monitor read the chip, unsure of what might happen next. Data displayed, then mathematical sequences that redundantly ran through themselves with constantly shifting variables. He recognized some of it as the math used in slipspace travel. The formula there, like here, also changed quadrillions of times per second to recalculate. But this was far bigger and more complex than he had ever seen. He found and pulled up the base software that underlay this program and found nothing special. He didn't know what he was expecting but there was no button that said "push to go home" and he didn't know enough about software writing to even begin to dissect the program, let alone engineer it to take him back.

He yanked the chip, ending the program, and held up the other one. It glowed menacingly. Hesitating only for a moment, he shoved it into the monitor and waited. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a computer language completely unlike anything he had ever seen before began to run. But it didn't read left to right, top to bottom. Instead, a sort of core appeared on the screen at the center and programming language emanated from it and outwards, spiraling, twisting and zigzagging, faster and faster until the monitor was first filled with ever-shifting code before going black. He leaned in close. Suddenly there was an orange face on the screen staring back at him. It looked around, or appeared to, before its eyes landed on him.

"Hello," it said.

"What are you?" He already knew the answer.

"I am ALX 2557-4. Who are you?"

"Lieutenant S-B312," he said.

The orange, female face closed her eyes a moment and he saw code begin to cascade down her digital eyelids. She opened them suddenly.

"I have found your records, Lieutenant. You are authorized to… Speak with me. Forgive me. I am… New."

A goddamn AI. Halsey had sent him with a fully-functional, apparently brand new, UNSC smart AI. If she was new, she only had her base programming and UNSC database installed… And, he thought, probably whatever else Halsey had added. He sighed heavily.

"We need to talk," he said, leaning against the wall.

"About what, Lieutenant?"

"Everything."

* * *

Edge of Nemean Abyss

/

Accipitor Class Turian Corvette - THS Fraguul

Derret Bragonis sat at his terminal, adroitly working the controls and changing both frequencies and scans. Though not the front lines work he had hoped for, there was no ongoing war except for the pirates in the abyss. The crew of the Fraguul was on a constant reconnaissance mission in the area to report pirate activity. If pirates left the abyss and the Fraguul had tagged them, they would be getting a warm welcome from a Turian heavy cruiser. Again, not his ideal post but he was proud to be serving and he knew his role was needed.

There were three corvettes in this area; the THS Fraguul, THS Brigantus, and the THS Resperia. They were a ways out from each other, interlocking the areas their sensors were set but picking up areas the other ships couldn't reach. It was perfect dispersion creating a dragnet of the area. If there was any activity out there, they'd catch it.

Bragonis sat on the bridge with two other sensor technicians. Their defense officer sat behind them at his own terminal, overlooking their work. Also on the bridge was communications, fire control, and an engineering officer. Captain Lathronix sat at his chair, staring out into space. They were mostly silent, only speaking to each other when required in the execution of their duties. They were a well-oiled and efficient machine of reconnaissance at this point.

The young Turian spied a blip on the thermographic sensor array. He was about to get his shipmate sitting next to him to set the LADAR on it when it disappeared. Curious now, he arranged thermal sensors in that direction and nothing showed up. He reset all systems to wide scan and was about to lean back when the thermographic sensor reported the same blip again but in a slightly different area of space now.

"Cloaked," he whispered to himself. He again set thermographic sensors to that area to try and find what it could possibly be. All sensors again showed nothing. He widened the range just a bit and waited but nothing happened. He then set all sensors to wide and waited again. It wasn't surprising that a cloaked ship could still be picked up with thermal imaging. Heat was difficult to hide in the cold of space. One could secure crew space all they liked but an engine still had to burn something to run. What surprised the young Turian was when another blip appeared in an entirely different region but this time on the radar terminal of his squadmate sitting next to him. The blip stayed in place. They exchanged a look, showing each other their sensor contacts.

Bragonis turned to his immediate superior.

"I had something on thermal and it disappeared, ma'am. Herentim has another contact on radar. Unknown, unidentified."

A second blip appeared, and Bragonis spun to look. It was the same one from before on the thermal imaging in the same sector, same distance.

"Bragonis," the Captain barked. "We have no visual in that area. Confirm sensors are working properly."

"Confirmed, Captain. Calibrated at first shift. I have a second unknown, sending it to your terminal."

A moment passed as Bragonis and his team played with the sensors, trying to find anything that could explain the unknown contacts.

"Negative on visual for second sensor contact," the Captain said. "Re-calibrate the sensors."

"Yes, Captain I…"

Suddenly there were more. Where there had been two, there had been six, then 12, then dozens, then even more. One at a time and in rapid succession, contacts began to appear all over the space around them. He looked at the two terminals on his right and left side as his squadmates began working their controls furiously. They had contacts everywhere, it seemed.

"Bragonis, is there something else?"

"Captain Lathronix." communications Officer Thrustonik bellowed out. "I have multiple unknown transmissions being broadcast from the area Bragonis has highlighted. Unknown language."

He played it over the speakers. A cacophony of bizarre speech flooded their collective ears. But it didn't just sound like one language. There seemed to be multiple and different voices that sounded like they were responding to each other.

An image began to appear on Bragonis' squadmate's display terminal. His friend had set the LADAR on the closest contact to try and get a visual read with laser scanning. It was big, bigger than anything he had ever heard of. Scan had it at approximately 3 kilometers long, and 1.5 kilometers wide. It had a bulbous bow, if that was the bow, a rounded middle, and a trapezoidal back end. But there was nothing that they could see in space when they looked, just blackness and distant stars. Sensors said the closest one was right there but it wasn't. This didn't make any sense.

One of the other corvettes suddenly came over their comms.

"Fraguul, this is the THS Brigantus. We have multiple sensor contacts. Do you have a visual?"

"Negative, Brigantus. We're seeing the same sensor ghosts."

"Captain Lathronix," one of the Turians from fire control spoke up. Bragonis could never remember his name. "We may have an issue with our system. Showing… multiple unknown weapons systems powering up out there."

Again, the Brigantus sent a transmission.

"Be advised, Fraguul. We're showing contacts converging on your position."

"Fire control," Lathronix barked again "Shields at maximum, bring our point defense system online, and charge weapons."

"Yes, Captain."

Brigantis pressed a button on his chair. "All hands, battlestations." He pressed another button. "THS Gavik, this is THS Fraguul. We are at full alert and at battlestations. Unknown sensor contacts are closing in. We have no visual. Assist."

Tha Gavik was their cruiser escort. Bragonis hoped they weren't far off.

"Fraguul, we are enroute to your position."

"Captain," came the voice of fire control. "Torpedoes inbound. High yield."

"Evasive action!"

The ship lurched, rolling before picking a direction and engaging thrusters at maximum. Everyone was thrown in one direction as the corvette rocketed in another, back toward the Gavik.

"Fraguul, this is Resperia. We have a negative on all contacts across all sensors. No sensor ghosts. What's going on out there?"

In the excitement, Bragonis had forgotten to check his terminal. Hearing the Resperia on comms, he checked his terminal, then the terminals of his shipmates.

"Uh… Negative on contacts here, Captain. They've gone. All of them."

Fire control again piped up. "Same here, Captain. Negative on torpedoes."

"Negative on transmissions," came communications.

They stayed at the ready, still at battlestations, still heading for the Gavik at full speed.

"Fraguul, this is the Gavik. Advise on situation."

"I'll debrief you when I get there... Lothranix, out."

It was a quiet ride, even with engines at maximum. All sensors had lit up, fire control reported inbound weapons, and the transmissions… They'd all heard the voices. SOMETHING had been out there. But of course it hadn't actually been there either. Torpedoes don't disappear out of space. Nothing disappears, not the way that all this did.

Bragonis did not envy his commanding officer. He certainly couldn't explain what had just happened.

He doubted anyone in this universe could.


	6. COMING SOON

COMMUNICATION INTERCEPT

INCIDENT NO. 9844XXXX

TAGS: SHADOW, XXX, XXX, XXX

REPORT: XXX

TO: XXX

FROM: XXX

REPORT: More oversight required for Operation XXX. The communication we intercepted came directly from XXX group and I fear thereay be more involved with this crisis of faith. There is derision in the ranks. Many seem to believe the humans from XXX are more advanced than we initially believed. I'm inclined to agree with them. With what we are attempting to pull of, we'll need heavier restrictions to information, a positive spin, and invasive intelligence gathering on our own people. These are not UNSC soldiers in this project, these are the best and brightest within ONI. It won't be so simple with standard protocols. With your permission, I'll proceed. The two parties below have been retrieved and are being held at XXX for information extraction. They were thorough in covering their tracks but we already had them on a watchlist. If they weren't, I doubt we would have caught them. Which begs the question of any others that might end up on their list that aren't on any watchlists. Troubling, to say the least.

We cannot afford any missteps.

Please advise.

COMMUNICATION CONTENTS:

"XXX,

I'm inclined to agree with you. They're not us but they're human. We can't be expected to carry this out. I pray the clues given don't actually add up to our fears. I knew XXX was up to something but this is beyond all comprehension.

We need to discuss this further in person. While I am confident in the XXX protocol, I doubt ONI will leave anything to chance. I'll burn this comm and station as soon as this is sent. You should do the same. Let's meet at the usual spot at 2300. We should start getting a list together.

Fingers crossed,

-XXX"

(Life event left me pretty down for a while there but I'm back at it. One little piece at a time. Sorry for the hiatus. More is coming.)


End file.
